


ODD EYE

by gennuare



Category: NCT (Band), SuperM (Korea Band)
Genre: Casual Sex, Childhood Friends, Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten is a Tease, Denial of Feelings, Flashbacks, Fluff and Smut, Lee Taeyong Needs a Hug, Light Angst, M/M, Sex as Coping Mechanism, Smut, and also has a thick skull
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:02:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 34,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28082103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gennuare/pseuds/gennuare
Summary: Eventually, Taeyong gives up. Or at least that's what he says to himself: that he's given up on Ten and his strange demeanours, and that he doesn't care, and that the younger surely does everything he does out of politeness and selflessness. Taeyong has long given up on Ten, so he shouldn't be trying to read between lines.Or: Taeyong and Ten were once best friends, but then things happened. And six years later, when they meet again, things happen yet again.
Relationships: Lee Taeyong/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten
Comments: 40
Kudos: 95





	1. Prologue

Taeyong closed his eyes and dropped his head, rolling his shoulders back, trying to shake off the feeling of stiffness that had plagued him since that morning. Of course, after a week of performing at music shows, hardly sleeping and barely eating due to the knot in his stomach caused by stress, it was to be expected.

Not that that made it easier.

"Hey" Mark greeted him, handing him a cup of coffee. "You good?"

Taeyong tilted his head, opening a single eye and looking at the younger through his lashes.

"Why wouldn't I?"

Mark shrugged. "You've been acting kinda weird lately" he replied, letting himself fall on top of the little counter in front of the mirror. "You do you, though."

Taeyong hummed; he knew Mark was right. He had been thinking about it for almost a week, but as days passed, the only thing that seemed to change was the knot in his stomach —growing tighter and tighter. He was getting to the point where he was becoming frustrated that he couldn't identify the reason behind that discomfort; having ruled out work-related stress and scenic panic, he was running out of options. Because contrary to popular belief, his life was not particularly impressive. At all.

He really didn't have a lot of exciting stuff going on besides work. So what was that itch at the very back of his brain?

Before he could dig further into the matter, his manager poked his head into the dressing room and motioned for him to get ready to go on stage.

"See you later" Mark smiled at him, giving him a thumbs up. "Merde."

_Merde._

Taeyong managed a smile.

_Merde._

"Yup, see ya."

_Merde._

A girl from the music show staff approached him to check his mic, but Taeyong's mind was far away from the present time. 

  
_Quick and skilled hands rearranged his suit, smoothing the wrinkles and hiding the wires of the mic expertly, resting in his chest a second too long._

_"Merde", he said, all smiles, his eyes curved into shining crescent moons, his aura warm and reassuring._

The knot in his stomach tightened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hihi!  
> Welcome to my first ever English fic! I've been wanting to write this one for a while, but the semester ended just now so... yeah. Anyway, just letting y'all know that this story will probably be quite long. My goal is to update once a week, but I don't really have a schedule yet.  
> On a side note, I know this is a really short chapter, but it's just the prologue! :) 
> 
> See you in a few days!


	2. ACT I

My eyes were looking for you,

so I found you.


	3. The Party

"Come oooooooon, you can't just stay here forever."

Taeyong ignores him and presses the play button for the nth time in the past few hours. The strong bass resonates in his chest as he starts moving again, letting himself flow with the music. He has been rehearsing this specific part for the last couple of days, but it's like he didn't work on it at all. It's useless. Something is missing. Something's off.

He tries his best, tilting his body in just the right angles, extending his limbs as much as he can, softening his movements when needed, even going as far as fully falling into that special headspace he recludes himself when he's actually on stage. But nothing seems to work. Not today, not yesterday, not the day before that. And it's not like he's disconnected from his body or something like that; no, he has been there, he knows how it feels like. So it's not that.

Frustrated, he goes to his friend once the music comes to a stop and lets himself fall unceremoniously on the floor. 

"Hey, seriously, what's wrong?"

Taeyong sighs, accepting the bottle of water the other hands him.

"It's nothing. Really. I guess I'm just slightly... out of it these days."

"You're never out of it."

"Not that you know."

"I know everything" states Yuta matter-of-factly, stretching like a cat. "You just fail to acknowledge how omnipotent I am."

Taeyong scoffs.

"Right. That's why you can't get a girlfriend. Because of how omnipot..."

"Okaaaaaay, enough, shut your mouth or I swear to God..."

Taeyong laughs softly, amused. He has known Yuta for almost ten years now; they met during the Seoul Auditions for RED Entertainment, one of the biggest companies in Korea. While Taeyong mocked Yuta after the casting ended and the other fired back and told him how terrible his singing skills were, the truth is, they had a really great time. They didn't talk often or became close until years later when both of them had their careers going rather smoothly, but they always knew they had each other's backs. 

Yuta is a Japanese model working on the same company Taeyong is, but under a different label. They reconnected when a quite luxurious brand contacted Taeyong to offer him a modelling contract and his manager decided to pair him up with Yuta for a while to learn the basics. 

"Today's Friday, right?"

"Yup. 26th" replies Yuta, scrolling through his social media. "Why?"

"Mmm. Nothing."

The younger puts his phone back in his pocket, a serious expression on his face. 

"Stop being so cryptic, Taeyong. You've been like this for almost two weeks now."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Cut the crap."

Taeyong sighs. He runs a hand through his hair and places his beanie on top, brushing back the strands that fall over his face. 

"I already told you, I don't know. I'm not hiding anything from you" he says, biting back a very bad joke about The Omnipotent Yuta, "it's just a weird month I guess."

"Like every February" murmurs Yuta under his breath, not loud enough for Taeyong to hear it. "Oh! I have an idea!"

"Oh Lord. Please don't."

"We're going out!" he chirps, excited, taking out his phone again and tapping on the screen a few times, then bringing it up to his ear. "Hey, Jae? What's up? Is your offer still standing?"

"Offer? What offer?" Taeyong whines, pulling down his beanie so it covers his whole face. "I'm not interested in offers. Of any kind."

"Shush pretty boy, stop complaining. No, not you, Jae. Oh, okay." A pause. "You sure? Then let's say... 9 PM? Is it too late?" He hums a couple of times, nodding. "Okay. Perfect. See you!" He turns to Taeyong with a big smile plastered on his face and the older curls himself into a ball, ready to roll away. 

"Roll if you want, but we're going. Pick you up at 8.45 PM." Yuta stands up and sends him a flying kiss on his way out. "See ya!"

Taeyong grunts.

* * * * *

When he finally gets home around 4 PM, a subtle rain has begun to fall on Seoul. He sighs, relieved that he had decided against staying in the company for another hour, or else he would be totally soaked by now. Because you see, Taeyong really hates umbrellas. Like really, really, hates them. He has always preferred to wear raincoats or hooded jumpsuits instead. Never umbrellas. They're annoying. He doesn't even _have_ one.

He leaves his shoes in the entrance and hangs his keys on the little hook by the door, humming a song and rambling on what he should do first. The slight scent of vanilla as soon as he steps in the living room makes him smile, instantly comforting and making him forget the terrible days he's been having. It's nothing truly serious, though, but it's frustrating nevertheless; it's not just not being able to do his job that infuriates him, but also not being able to disconnect from the world. Dancing has always been Taeyong's escape and being deprived of it... yeah. Sucks.

As tempting as the couch looks, Taeyong decides to turn the lights on and play some soft music first. Then he goes to the fridge and takes his time selecting ingredients; vegetables, a specific cut of meat, a couple of sauces —and he opens a can of coffee while he's at it, because why not? 

His kitchen is nothing out of this world, but Taeyong adores it. It has a long, narrow window just above the counter, framed by two short and cute white curtains, and on cold, rainy days like this, he finds it extremely comforting to be able to make himself a hot meal while thousands of droplets slide down the glass right before his eyes. 

Once he's happy with his work, he puts the lid on the pot and makes sure it's on low heat. After doing a double-check, he leaves the kitchen and goes to the bathroom, humming excitedly because of the soft aroma of food that is now flooding the apartment. He hops in the shower and lets the warm water wash away the day.

By the time he falls on the couch with a bowl of food between his hands, clean and with his hair almost dry, the drizzle has turned into a full-blown storm. Taeyong wonders if the rain will eventually deter Yuta from dragging him wherever it is he wanted to go. 

He doubts it.

_Ping!_

A notification from kakao talk plops on the screen of his phone.

_Ping! Ping! Ping!_

Finishing the last bites of food, he sets the bowl on the coffee table in front of him and opens the app.

|17.43| **YUTA:** hey losers 

|17.43| **YUTA:** wanna hang out tonight

|17.44| **JAEHYUN:** I literally invited you

|17.44| **YUTA:** whatever

|17.45| **ME:** can I like

|17.45| **ME:** skip

|17.45| **YUTA:** you can't

|17.45| **JAEHYUN:** Request denied your honor

|17.45| **YUTA:** next question

Taeyong sighs. As if agreeing with Yuta, the storm begins to subside at that precise moment.

|17.45| **JAEHYUN:** What about you, Doyoung? Are you coming?

|17.47| **DOYOUNG:** Doubt it. What time?

|17.47| **JAEHYUN:** 9 PM

|17.47| **DOYOUNG:** Can't

|17.47| **DOYOUNG:** I have a business dinner

|17.47| **DOYOUNG:** ish

|17.48| **YUTA:** OHHHHHH

|17.48| **YUTA:** so it's just the three of us???

|17.48| **JAEHYUN:** Four with Woo

|17.48| **ME:** is he going?

|17.48| **YUTA:** that bitch

|17.48| **YUTA:** didn't tell me a word

|17.48| **YUTA:** i'm disowning him

|17.49| **ME:** Doyoung

|17.49| **ME:** Doie

|17.49| **ME:** my friend

|17.49| **ME:** please take me with you

|17.51| **DOYOUNG:** NOPE

|17.51| **DOYOUNG:** Have fun

|17.51| **DOYOUNG:** See y'all tomorrow for breakfast 😛

Rolling his eyes and with a dramatic sigh, Taeyong accepts his fate and picks up the empty bowl, leaving his phone on the coffee table and deciding on doing the dishes before anything else. It's barely raining now, but it doesn't look like the clouds are leaving anytime soon.

Once the kitchen is clean, Taeyong checks the time: it's almost six o'clock. 

What time did Yuta say he'd pick him up...?

Just to be sure, he opens the group chat again. 9 PM. 

Hmm.

That leaves him with almost three hours for himself. 

Oh, the opportunities.

He wanders around his apartment, weighing his options. He could pamper his plants a bit, remove the soil, add a little fertilizer; he could do a deep cleaning, polish the furniture, vacuum the carpet and so on; he could catch up on the series he abandoned almost a month ago; he could cook several dishes, separate them in tuppers and freeze them so he avoids the temptation of ordering delivery the upcoming week; he could, he could, he could.

In the end, he decides to take a nap. 

* * * * *

It's pretty dark outside when he wakes up. 

A little worried, Taeyong pokes his head out from under the pillows and checks the time on his nightstand watch. It's only 7.20 PM. Relieved and knowing he still has an hour or so before Yuta comes to pick him up, he allows himself to linger on the warm feeling of the fuzzy blankets just a little longer. He loves it. To be wrapped up in soft and comfortable clothes while it's freezing outside should be considered the 8th wonder.

Ten minutes later he decides it's time to start moving, so he kicks the covers off of his body and goes to the kitchen to make himself some coffee. While he waits for the coffee machine to do his job, he checks the large calendar he keeps attached to the fridge to make sure he didn't miss any important dates. Except for rehearsals and a single meeting with the producer he usually works with, his schedule for next week seems pretty light; now that he's done with the promotions, fan signs and general events related to his last comeback, he's got so much more free time between his hands. Maybe he could try a new hobby. 

Distracted, Taeyong double-checks the calendar. He feels like he's forgetting something. His eyes linger a second too long on the empty space behind the 27th, but he doesn't stop to think about it. About anything. 

The high-pitched sound the coffee machine makes once the infusion is ready startles the man, bringing him back to Earth. It happens often; he gets so immersed in a particular thought —or in trying to reject it— that he zones out and loses track of time.

Grabbing the cup of coffee, he steps briefly into the living room to turn on the TV before walking to his wardrobe. He rummages through his clothes, fingers running over the different kinds of fabric, eyes attentive to the colours and patterns, all while listening to the woman reciting the news as if she had memorized them. Minutes later she's saying something about no more rain until next Wednesday, so Taeyong gently separates his fancy raincoats from the rest of the clothes.

"I'm an idiot" he murmurs under his breath, taking his phone out of his pocket and tapping on the screen. 

"Hey! What's the matter? I already told you, I'm not letting you rot alone in your house, so don't..."

"Not that, Yuta," he says, amused. "What's the dress code?"

"Oh NOW we're talking!" Taeyong can almost hear his friend rubbing his hands together in excitement. "Jae didn't tell me much, only that it's in a pretty fancy hotel and that we should dress to impress. That's all."

"But I don't dress to impress. I dress to depress."

"Oh my God, don't..."

"I wanna look so good that people hate themselves."

"I'm hanging up."

Taeyong lets out a breathy laugh, sliding his phone back in the pocket of his pyjama pants. 

Getting back to business, he takes out a myriad of suits, blouses and shirts and disposes of the huge pile over his bed, examining them with a critical eye. He's not in the mood for suits, so he discards those first. Maybe he should go for some nice pants and a blouse paired up with a blazer? It wouldn't be too formal but it would definitely do the trick. Jeans? Hmm. He has some really nice ones, but...

Half an hour later and after having a second cup of coffee Taeyong can say he's satisfied.

Not his most elegant outfit, but it will do.

Despite the whole drama show he put on when Yuta told him they were going out, Taeyong is in a good mood. It's been a couple of months since he went to a party; the only social interactions he had in the recent time were fan signs and a few reunions with Yuta, Jaehyun and Doyoung whenever they could squish one into their busy schedules, and it was never something too wild; they usually limited to order food and drink one or two beers and that was all. 

And Taeyong loves going out.

He just has to make it through the initial phase of laziness.

The thing is, he has a pretty normal life. Boring even. Aside from the whole famous thing and fans recognising him in the streets from time to time, he has nothing exciting going on. No fascinating hobbies, no groundbreaking secrets, no love life. He's had some hookups, of course, but nothing serious and honestly? He prefers it that way. The only experience he had similar to a breakup or a broken heart dissuaded him from seeking ties that deep. 

Taeyong scoffs. 

Similar to a breakup? Seriously?

He can't believe himself. What the hell is he thinking about?

He did have a broken heart, though.

"Stoooop" he sings to himself, turning on the bathroom light and putting out all he needs to style his hair and do his makeup. 

It's not that he hates the idea of love. He loves it, even. He's just not sure he believes that kind of devotion actually exists. A tiny voice in the back of his head keeps telling him that he knows it does, but does it really? Is it sufficient proof to have experienced it if its end is an immense contradiction to the very existence of that same devotion?

Once the hair is done, he opens the cute purse where he keeps his makeup products. Choosing a light foundation and applying a light brown shadow in the corner of his eyes to accentuate his gaze, he tries his best to keep it natural. As a final touch, he adds a little bit of highlighter in the centre of his eyelids and finishes his look with a fruity lipgloss. 

It's good, he decides. 

By the time Yuta attacks his doorbell, he's ready to go, not even letting his friend enter his house. The Japanese man feigns despair until he sees him, and a slow smile grows on his face.

"So you really dressed to depress, huh?"

Taeyong shrugs nonchalantly, but he's oh so proud of how he looks.

He chose a black turtleneck and tucked it inside high waisted, grey pleated pants that hugged his waist just right, showing off how small it is, and a dark red blazer over his shoulders. As a last-minute thought, he put on a couple of rings and long, thin earrings. And he was done.

He wasn't sure of how much attention he wanted that night, he still isn't, so he made sure to look stunning, but not... blinding. Like good good, but not brilliant.

They leave Yuta's car in the parking lot of Taeyong's building and call a cab instead, not planning on going back home sober at all. 

The ride to the hotel is silent, both of them scrolling through their social media. 

When they finally arrive Yuta calls Jaehyun and tells him that they're at the entrance, and two minutes later he appears in the hall, all smiles and dimples. He is dressed in matching beige pants and jacket, a slightly unbuttoned white shirt beneath him revealing a simple, fine gold chain hanging from his neck and a single earring hanging from his left earlobe. He played it safe, that's for sure, but Taeyong smirks.

"Well, well, where are you going, stunning?"

"Shut up, Taeyong." Jaehyun rolls his eyes and makes a hand gesture, inviting them in. "Have you eaten?"

"I did" replies Yuta. He's also something else; dressed in a burgundy suit and a black translucent black shirt underneath, no tie or bow and his hair pulled back from his face... Well, it's not Taeyong's type, but he sure can acknowledge how absolutely gorgeous his friend looks.

"And you?"

"Hmm. Not yet."

They step into the elevator and Jaehyun presses a button that takes them to the top floor.

When they arrive there, Taeyong whistles. 

The entire floor is set for the party. There are dim lights in warm tones here and there, but at least half of the space is rather dark; almost all of the walls are actually huge windows that go from floor to ceiling, making the city behind them look like one of those aerial pics they take from aeroplanes. They must be quite high. At the end of the corridor by his right there's a glass door that leads to what appears to be a terrace, barely lit by fairy lights. Taeyong makes a mental note to explore that part later. To his left there's yet another corridor, much brighter than the rest of what Taeyong can see, with doors here and there; restrooms and private bedroom, he guesses.

Taeyong is really impressed with how spacious the place is. When Yuta mentioned that the party would be held in a hotel he did expect something quite luxurious, but not... this. Not at all.

He could fit his apartment five or six times into this floor. His whole apartment, with four spacious rooms and a separate wardrobe. 

"Whose party is this again?" he asks Jaehyun, who shrugs.

"The CEO of my company signed a contract with one of the big fishes in this industry and they set a party to celebrate. We usually do one of these at the beginning of the year to welcome the new workers and kinda lift our spirits for the upcoming months, but they decided to postpone it and throw this one instead."

"Does your company really cost this?" asks Yuta, genuinely curious.

"Nah. They probably split up the costs with Mr Big Fish."

They laugh quietly and go to the large bar set near one of those giant windows. Behind them there's a huge dance floor where at least two hundred people move to the music, laughing and flirting and drinking, and Taeyong can't help but notice that he knows pretty much all of them. 

"At least half the idols I know are here" comments Yuta, seemingly reading his mind. "And that's a lot of people."

Jahyun orders three drinks and hums.

"What's the name of the company of Mr Big Fish?"

"Oh, it's not Korean." Jaehyun smiles when the bartender places their drinks in front of them along with a small plate of snacks, sipping on the orange-ish liquor before talking again. "I mean, I think they have a Korean label here, like a sub-brand or whatever it's called, but I have no idea where they're from. Maybe China?"

"Mhm. Could be. I've heard China has some huge ass entertainment companies" says Taeyong, still studying the place, curious. He recognises a lot of faces, and that excites him. 

He's extra careful when going to parties, controlling how much he drinks and hiding from as many eyes as he can when hooking up with someone —he's got a reputation he has to preserve, after all.

But surrounded by people that already know the deal? Well, that's different.   
It's not like he hasn't to be careful at all, but he can allow himself to have a little more fun without worry too much or overanalyzing every move he does.

"You're practically jumping on your seat" scoffs Yuta, amused. "Go get 'em, tiger."

Taeyong rushes his drink and bows deeply before his friends.

"It's been a pleasure, gentlemen. May our paths cross again later."

And with a smirk, he's gone.

"I can't stand him," says Yuta matter-of-factly.

Jaehyun laughs, raising a finger to order another round of drinks.

"Let the child have fun. He'll be back in an hour."

"I say two" grins Yuta. He raises his chin a bit towards the dance floor where Taeyong's already swaying his hips to the bass and talking with a girl he recognises from a previous night out.

"Cheers to that!"

* * * * *

"You're really..., ah, something... else."

Taeyong lets out a shaky breath. He carefully circles his arms around the girl's waist and hooks his chin in the crook of her neck, chest pressed against her back, trying to regain some composure. She's also breathless, both of her hands and forehead resting on the wall, giggling softly.

"You're really beautiful tonight, Soo Li." He presses a peck on her neck, just below her ear, and pulls himself away from her. She hears the low murmur of the fabric when Taeyong pulls up his pants and the soft metallic sound of his belt as it is secured back in its place. "You okay?"

"Mmhm. More than okay" she says, turning to face the man. Her hands find his neck and then his nape, toying with the short strands of hair, careful not to completely mess up his hairstyle. She deposits a chaste kiss on his lips and they both giggle, enjoying the complicity. "Will I see you again?"

Taeyong smiles brightly.

"Will I?" he asks, knowing full-well that she has his same no-dating and no-ties policy.

"Who knows."

Soo Li picks up her purse and winks over her shoulder. She then leaves the bedroom, closing the door behind her and leaving a radiant Taeyong behind.

After a strategic stop in the restroom to fix his hair and clothes, he goes back to the main salon and asks for a drink before searching for his friends. He spots Yuta talking to Jungwoo in a corner, laughing his ass off and holding a pretty large plate of snacks between his hands. The younger notices Taeyong staring and flashes a smile in his direction, waving a hand and gesturing him to join them, but he declines the offer with a polite nod. He wants to find Jaehyun first, make sure he's safe and still enjoying the party. 

Taeyong checks the time on his phone. 10.49 PM. 

The music is softer and the dance floor is much better lit now, revealing that half of the space is actually occupied by circular tables, each surrounded by four to five chairs. It's in one of those tables that he finally finds Jaehyun, chatting animatedly with a young man that Taeyong doesn't recognise. He hesitates for a moment, unsure if he should approach them or not —he doesn't want to interrupt, after all. 

"Hey, Taeyong! Over here!" Jaehyun smiles at him, raising a hand and pointing down to the table he's sitting at. "Come join us!"

Well, that solves it. 

"Hey" greets Taeyong, bowing slightly before the other man, ever the polite one. "I'm Lee Taeyong, nice to meet you."

"Lee Taeyong? The Lee Taeyong?" chirps excitedly the other man, his soft eyes wide. "It's really nice to meet you! I'm a big fan of yours. I'm Xiao Dejun, or Xiaojun, or Jun. Whatever is fine."

"Xiaojun?" Taeyong raises his eyebrows, impressed. "The Chinese singer?"  
"You've heard about me?"

"Of course! Your last mini-album had a huge impact here in Korea, it was amazing. It's one of my favourite releases of the last year."

"Oh my God, I..."

"Ooookay, why don't you sit first and slow down a bit?" intercedes Jaehyun, laughing under his breath. "You're gonna make him combust if you don't tone it down."

Xiaojun rolls his eyes, but the tips of his ears are red. 

Taeyong takes a seat beside his friend and right in front of the other man, humming in approval once he notices the number of small dishes and snacks disposed on the table. His stomach growls.

"Someone's hungry. Have you done some exercise lately?" asks Jahyun, battling his eyelashes innocently.

"Shut up."

They eat and chat for a while, and Taeyong is honestly surprised by how well he gets along with the youngest. Not that he doubted the boy, but himself; he's usually a little awkward at first, not sure of what to say and what to do, but with Xiaojun everything flows naturally. They talk nonstop for almost an hour, about their careers, their families, friends and plans for the year, exploring different topics and emptying one bottle of soju after another. By the time the clock announces it's 11.42 PM and the background music fades into silence, the three of them are pretty wasted. 

Taeyong's eyes widen when something catches his attention and Xiaojun laughs at how big they look, covering his mouth with his hand to muffle the sound when Jaehyun elbows him in the ribs.

One of the darkest corners in the entire floor is suddenly illuminated by a few bright bulbs of warm, yellow light. There's a medium-sized stage there, not too high and not too low, not big enough for a full-fledged dance performance but for a few people to stand on it. 

And that's exactly what happens: a couple of men in suits take the stage and one of them raises a glass, tapping it a couple of times with a silverware to attract the attention of those present. The lights in the rest of the room go out.

"Isn't that your CEO?" asks Taeyong, narrowing his eyes.

"It is!" whispers Jaehyun, the alcohol making him over-excited.

The man starts talking, just as Jaehyun had told Taeyong earlier, about a new contract with YUE Entertainment, about how it was going to allow them to grow, about how he hoped both companies could work together for many years, and blah blah. Taeyong loses what little interest he had when someone gently touches his shoulder and turning around he recognizes Ju Won. The man smiles and pulls up a chair to sit next to him.

And so the flirting begins.

Kind of.

Taeyong is about to suggest to go get some fresh air on the terrace and maybe grab a couple of drinks on the way when the man on stage finishes his speech and there's a round of applause.

And then, the next one to take the mic is Doyoung.

Taeyong blinks a few times, completely forgetting Ju Won and getting up from his seat to approach the large group of people milling around the stage.   
He can barely walk a straight line.

When he's about ten meters away from the stage he realizes that he's not hallucinating; the man about to speak really is Doyoung.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen" he greets, all smiles, tilting his head to the side. "I hope you're all having a pleasant time."

Taeyong shakes his head. Didn't Doyoung have a business dinner or something like that?

He tries his best to keep up with what his best friend is saying, but he's oh so dizzy and unfocused. He gets that he also talks about business and alliances and that kind of things, but...

"Now, for what I really care about this evening," says Doyoung innocently, shooting a glance at the CEO of Jaehyun's company, "to celebrate. Celebrate a wonderful person, who despite being a constant pain in the ass, has always supported my dreams and reached out to me whenever I needed it."

Doyoung pauses and Taeyong raises both eyebrows, trying to process something despite the alcohol running through his veins. He never heard his friend speaking of someone like that, so... so openly filled with gratitude and admiration.

Taeyong is completely dumbfounded.

"I hope good things find you this year because you deserve them."

Doyoung puts down the microphone and people clap, some even raising their glasses. He comes down from the stage and just as he's heading to one of the tables, he sees Taeyong and the smile that he kept throughout his speech fades. He rushes over to him, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from the rest of the crowd.

"What the hell are you doing here? I thought Yuta and you both were out getting wasted?"

"But we are, though. I could ask you the same thing. Weren't you supposed to be in a business dinner or whatever?"

"This is the business dinner, you idiot."

"...Oh."

Another person greets everyone from the stage at that moment and Taeyong stands on his tiptoes, squinting, trying to see who took the mic now. He gasps when he recognizes him.

"Doyoung! That's Kun!"

"Yes, I know who he is." Doyoung looks terribly worried. "Why don't we go get some air outside? Have you eaten yet? Let's..."

"Shhhhhhhhhhhhh, let me hear what he has to say."

"Taeyong..."

"Ooooooh I love that man! He's such a great producer! Think I could ask him to work with me?"

"Seriously, come with me, you're totally wasted. Let's get you some water."

Doyoung tugs on his arm, but Taeyong is stubborn and doesn't move an inch.  
By the time Kun is finishing his speech Doyoung seems about to jump off the balcony. Taeyong, on the other hand, doesn't seem to notice. Or he doesn't care at all.

"I really hope you had a great time! Thank you for coming. YUE and all of its people wish you all a great year. Especially you", he says, turning his head to one side of the stage. 

His smile softens and Taeyong is dying of curiosity to know who he's looking at, but his vision is blocked by a few dozen people and he sighs, defeated. Kun checks the time on his watch and counts down from ten, laughing softly as if he's telling the most hilarious joke. Taeyong turns to Doyoung waiting for an explanation, but his friend doesn't say a word.

When the clock hits zero the darkened room lights up with the colours of the fireworks exploding outside. 

"Happy birthday, my friend" says Kun softly, putting the mic back on its place and leaving the stage.

Another round of applause and a lot of cheering.

"Did he say birthday?" Doyoung goes blank and Taeyong checks his phone. It's midnight. "Nevermind. I just... I know someone whose birthday is today too."

Doyoung shoots him a knowing look.

And Taeyong, well.

He suddenly wants to cry.

"I'm going out" he announces, pointing with a finger at the glass doors.

Taeyong turns his back on the stage and starts to walk away, but before he can even take five steps towards the terrace a familiar voice echoes through the entire floor, causing him to freeze in his place and close his eyes.

How much alcohol did he really drink?

"Hello everyone! I'm glad to see you all enjoying, it was really the main point of this little celebration."

That voice. Taeyong would recognize it anywhere.

But it couldn't be.

Right?

"I'm not going to bore you with another business talk, but I do want to thank and celebrate the addition of this great company to our family. I'm sure good years await us as we work together, and..."

What are the odds?

"Taeyong? Are you okay?"

He barely acknowledges the hand Yuta places on his shoulder.

"And of course, thanks to my people. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for them, quite literally. Thank you."

Taeyong shakes off Yuta's hand and opens his eyes slowly, refusing to turn towards the stage and walking in the opposite direction.

He really doesn't have the strength to face this right now.

Feeling on a cloud, he dodges people and finally reaches the double glass doors, leaning and pushing them open with his shoulder. A blast of icy air welcomes him outside and he trembles, but instead of re-entering he walks away from the entrance and wanders until he reaches the farthest corner of the terrace. 

His mind is blank.

It's like he has so many things to process, so many thoughts swirling and slipping out of his grasp that he can't even pick one to focus on.

So he stays like this for a long time, leaning against the railing and watching the bustling city below him, allowing himself to go blank. He eventually ends up rambling, though, not quite sure if what he thinks that just happened actually happened. He could simply not have heard well. He could have been confused, right? It's not like it's completely impossible. He drank more than necessary and usually when he's in this state he tends to distort reality in his favour, seeing things that he wants to happen when in fact they're just that, a product of his imagination.

And that's when Taeyong widens his eyes.

He did not just think that.

Things that he wants to happen?

Taeyong whines, dropping his head between his shoulders. He is going to go crazy. And the worst part is that he really believed that he had already healed.

But it seems that's not the case.

"Hey."

Taeyong freezes.

Okay, so maybe alcohol has nothing to do with it after all.

Without turning around and still studying the city at his feet, Taeyong dares to speak. But he doesn't dare to look at him. Not yet.

"Hi, Ten."

His name feels weird on his mouth.

He feels something wet sliding down his cheek and frowns. Is this affecting him so much that he's crying already...?

Oh, it's not that. It's starting to rain again. One drop at a time.

"What are you doing out here? You hate cold weather."

Taeyong doesn't know what to say. Why is he asking such things as if he was concerned? 

"You didn't return my calls" he states, ignoring the questions.

A pause.

"No, I didn't."

Taeyong finds the whole situation extremely surreal. There he is, having the conversation they should have had years ago, the one he imagined a thousand times in a thousand sleepless nights, and yet, now that he has the chance, he doesn't know what else to say.

What he does know, though, is that he's acting a bit childish.

Taking a deep breath, he pushes himself away from the railing and turns to face the other man.

There, a mere five meters from where he is, Ten is looking at him expectantly. He's slightly taller than last time Taeyong saw him, but as his eyes scan him from head to toe, recognizing him, the older realizes that it's not his height what really catches his attention. It's his demeanor. It's the way he stands, like the whole world revolves around him and he knows it. It's not arrogant, it's just... him. 

If that makes any sense. Does it? 

Ten's wearing a quite simple black suit with a burgundy shirt beneath, no necklaces, no earrings, but at least five rings in his fingers. His hair is not styled in any way, falling over his face and making him look much younger than how he sounded when he grabbed the mic and talked to all those people. 

Taeyong almost believes that he's the same person he used to know.

Almost. 

Ten looks calm when Taeyong's eyes finally meet his own.

"Why?"

"Why, what?"

"Why didn't you return my calls?"

Ten smiles, but it's his business smile. Taeyong doesn't like it. He's seen that smile before, almost seven years ago, when he went to Thailand to pay him a surprise visit. He hates it. He hates how broken the younger looked when he pulled out that smile in front of all those people who expected oh such great things from him. He doesn't want to hear whatever Ten, the business man, is about to tell him. He wants to hear Ten, the real Ten, the man he once believed was his soulmate.

That is, if that person still exists.

Taeyong's mind goes at three thousand revolutions per second. What can he do to lower his guard? What would work? Or would he make a fool of himself?

And most importantly, why does he care so much?

"Cold", he says before Ten can even open his mouth. "It's cold out here."

Ten blinks.

"Wanna go inside? I can get you a cup of something warm if you want, or..."

Taeyong shakes his head, locking his eyes with the Thai's.

"Let me in."

And just like that, Ten's smile falls and his facade breaks into a million pieces. Taeyong sees it. It was a low blow, he knew it, but it was worth the try.  
You see, the first time Taeyong wanted to keep his pain to himself, even

from Ten, they were both eight years old. He avoided him two days in a row. So at night, Ten climbed the tree to Taeyong's window. He had previously tried less drastic measures, such as throwing pebbles at the glass from his garden, but when Taeyong poked his head out and Ten just said "I'm cold", the older ignored him and went back inside. So he climbed. Naturally. And once Ten was balancing on one of the tree's branches, he gently touched the window again: "I'm cold and now I may die," he said, looking down. He was quite high from the floor.

Taeyong let him in, but then Ten said again, "I'm cold. It's cold out here." Except that this time it made no sense since they were both cuddling under three blankets, and Taeyong thought he had a fever. But Ten just laughed.

"You've never put a wall between us, that's what I mean. Stop doing that. I don't like it. It's cold out here, from this side of the wall." He looked like he was about to cry, but Taeyong found it so endearing and he felt so relieved that he laughed. They both ended up laughing, but eventually it became almost like an inside joke. 

It was kind of a call, of a refuge. Every time one of them wanted to keep the struggles to himself, the other would say "cold" or something along those lines and then they would sit down and talk about it. It was like a reminder that they had each other. That they were not alone.

And apparently it still works, because for a second Taeyong sees Ten, his Ten, in front of him. 

"There you were!" Doyoung appears from nowhere and puts an arm around Taeyong's shoulders, dragging him away, and Ten slides back into his host posture.

"Goodnight, Doyoung. Call me later and don't be late tomorrow" he says. "Taeyong." 

And just like that, he's gone.

Well what the hell was that.

Doyoung takes Taeyong home, but the ride occurs in a blur. Once they get there and before his best friend can leave, Taeyong finds his voice again.

"Is he... is he staying?" Doyoung says nothing. "Ten, I mean. Is he staying? In Korea?"

Doyoung sighs.

"Don't do that to yourself, Yong. So what if he is? Do I have to remind you about that last time you tried to reach for him?"

"So he's staying."

Silence. And then:

"Yes."

How does Taeyong feel?

He has no idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaaand we're starting! (finally)  
> I struggled a lot with this first chapter because I didn't know how to present the characters I had in mind, but I think I did them justice, so I hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think!  
> Before I go, just letting you know that I'll be updating once a week, probably on weekends :)
> 
> See you next week! take care <3


	4. Before Midnight

The first thing Taeyong notices the next morning is how warm he is. 

Smiling and refusing to open his eyes just yet he rolls from one side to another over the huge bed, gloating in the comfort his fuzzy blanket provides him, humming in content when his hands find one of the many plushies he keeps near the headboard. He squishes it against his chest for a moment before letting it go, yawning. He pokes his head out from under the covers and takes a look at the window. 

It's not raining anymore, but it's still cloudy.

"Better than nothing" he mutters, yawning again and stretching like a cat. 

Before his brain can begin to process the events of the night before, Taeyong shakes off the covers and heads to the bathroom to start his day. He absolutely hates going to sleep without having a shower, but he was so out of it last night that he just let Doyoung change him into comfy clothes and put him to bed without a word. 

He lets the warm water take away the day before, relaxing his muscles and humming a random tune while washing his hair, making a conscious effort to hold on to that feeling of warmth that he experienced as soon as he woke up, avoiding recapping scenes from the party and only focusing in the present. By the time he finishes and puts on some comfy black joggers and a loose white t-shirt, he's calm and even in a good mood.

He waters the plants, puts his cellphone to charge and turns on the coffee machine. 

_Pling!_

|09.11| **DOYOUNG:** y'all better be there at 10.30 because I'm already starving

|09.11| **ME:** good morning to you too

|09.12| **DOYOUNG:** oh my god

|09.12| **YUTA:** HE'S ALIVE !!!!

Taeyong rolls his eyes and goes to the living room, leaving behind his phone and grabbing the cup of coffe and his laptop instead. 

Settling down on the couch and sipping some caffeine into his system, Taeyong turns on the device and types the password. He rummages through his inbox, deleting most of the emails without even taking a proper look at them —it's not that he's irresponsible, but contrary to what one might believe of an idol, actually 90% of his inbox is ads, promotions, and that sort of thing. Just like anyone else's email. Of course, there are some important messages and he answers them, but it doesn't take him more than five minutes.

He keeps scrolling down and finds emails from a few years ago, the ones Ten sent him when he had to move back to Thailand. Taeyong has deleted all the emails that he has sent himself, those that never got a response, but he never had the stomach or the heart to delete Ten's. He also hasn't read them since; he just left them there, at the bottom of his inbox. 

He clicks on one.

_Hey, Yongie!_

_How are you? It's been a week since I came here and I already miss Korea. Not you, though. I think I can live without you a while longer. Like... let's say, one more week. Then you'll have to get your ass over here and cuddle me to death._

_All jokes aside, I'm sorry that I haven't been able to call you! My phone died the day after last time we talked (like, literally) and with all the hustle of having to move back here and my parents going crazy over everything... let's just say that I had the time to go shopping just today. Like an hour ago. Aaaaand I also had to get a new phone number, so here it is xxx-xx-xxxx. Text me! I'd like to say that I remember yours, but that'd be a blatant lie :o_

_The weather here is hotter than I remembered. I think you'd like it. Please come visit. SOS. This is a call for help._

_Anyways! Talk to you when you text me, I suck at this writing thing :P_

_ly lots_

_Ten_

_PS. please check your email please check your email please check your email please ch_

Taeyong laughs softly, amused. Ten used to be such a crackhead. Always the energetic one, talking about anything that sparked his interest (which was pretty much everything) or finding new hobbies or dragging Taeyong to new places. He was such a pain the ass. 

He scrolls up now, searching for the last email he got from Ten, three years later and a couple of weeks before Taeyong's debut. 

Click.

_Hey Yongieee, how're you doing?_

_I hope you're okay. My phone is blowing up with texts and missed calls and stuff from work and I don't even wanna look at it, so I decided to write to you here for a change. I hope you don't mind :]_

_Sooooo your debut! It's close! Fucking finally!!! I know how hard you worked for it and I also hope you know that too, how much you deserve this. You're the best! I'm so so so proud of you. I don't think I can go to Korea, though, but I'll make sure to watch the performance as soon as I get home and I promise I'll call you to wish you luck and all that stuff and blah blah._

Taeyong paused. He remembered that email. Ten had said that he wasn't going to make it, but just when Taeyong was letting anxiety get the best of him, thinking that he was going to pass out, or vomit, or run away, or all of that at the same time, right before going on stage —Ten showed up. He looked the most tired Taeyong had ever seen him, but he smiled at him like he was the happiest person alive just from helping the older to put on his mic. 

Looking back, maybe Ten really didn't know if he was going to be able to fly to Korea and just didn't want to get Taeyong's hopes up in vain. 

_I've been wanting to call you for a while, but I get home from work late at night and with the time difference... yeah. I know you have to rest and I really don't want to bother you, so I'm opting for letting you sleep and writing you like this for now. I know it sucks, but hey, at least I'm c o m m u n i c a t i n g_

Taeyong scoffs, getting the reference. Whenever they went out, Ten would call him and sing _send me your location_ and laugh like he was the funniest guy on Earth.

_I'm doing good, btw. Business is going great and even my dad praises me from time to time. I'm working hard, but I'm also taking care of my health and fitting one hobby or two whenever I can so don't worry! I know how serious you get every time I talk about my schedule, so... just letting you know that I'm actually healthy and strong and beautiful and all the nasty things in between ;)_

_Anyways, I THINK I might have like an hour free or so tomorrow at 1 PM KST, so if you read this before that time call me !!! Or I call you !!! I miss mocking you over your voice_

_Have a good day tomorrow or I'll kick your ass <3_

_ly tons_

_Ten_

Taeyong closes the tab and turns off his laptop.

Having seen Ten the day before and realizing what he became —a full-fledged businessman— Taeyong understands some of the things he talked about in those emails, and now he can even read between the lines. With a slight pang in his chest, Taeyong realizes how lonely his friend must have felt. He never truly knew if the younger chose that life for himself, that's true, but Taeyong doubts it. 

At this point in the game it doesn't make much sense to look for someone to blame, but just as at first he thought he was the one who had done something that made his best friend upset and then he ended up blaming Ten for walking away, now he wonders if perhaps he could have done something more.

When Ten stopped answering his calls and texts they were both barely 18 years old, and Ten had been living in Thailand for almost three years. Three years in which the youngest visited Korea just once or twice a year, on winter holidays and on his birthday if he had any luck. However, Taeyong never felt left aside. They talked on the phone almost every day, texting each other about dumb things throughout the day, and occasionally writing long emails like they were letters. He never felt that his bond had deteriorated because of the distance.

He does remember how Ten became increasingly difficult to locate, more distant, but Taeyong also remembers how he never questioned him, blindly believing that any serious problem Ten had, he wouldn't keep it from him.

Taeyong recaps scenes from the night before and laughs softly at himself. It was an utter disaster, wasn't it? He was so so so drunk. What is he, fifteen years old? _You didn't answer my calls?_ Really?

He's not going to lie to himself, though, because he does want answers, but he was oh so drunk...

"Arrrgh."

Taeyong clutches his head in his hands and ruffles his hair, trying to process a thousand thoughts that accumulate and buzz in his mind. 

There's still a slight sense of loss.

Drunk or not.

And Taeyong is tired, mentally exhausted even because he's realizing just now that he never let Ten go. Not quite, not really. In the last few years, he had just... resigned. He didn't expect him to come back, but he was never able to completely turn his back on Ten. He mixed things up: he believed that if he let go all the way he would be trashing a lot of precious things and somehow discrediting how much Ten had supported him and helped him grow throughout his life. 

Just how much could a person mess things up with just by showing up?

One thing is clear, though: Taeyong needs closure. 

And since Ten is apparently staying in Korea, maybe he should try and contact him.

Letting out a long breath, Taeyong stands and takes his mug to the kitchen. He still has an hour or so before he has to go to the cafe for breakfast, so he decides to go shopping for groceries. Right after leaving the building, he receives a call from his manager and frowns. 

"Hey hyung, everything alright?"

"Taeyong, good morning, yes. Just calling to check up on you. How are you doing? Need anything?"

"No, thanks, I'm doing great. I'm actually going out for groceries so..."

"Okay, it'll be just a sec then. The company called me yesterday, they want to discuss your next comeback, you know the deal. Concept, producers you'll be working with, the approximate date and blah blah."

"And blah blah?" Taeyong retorts, amused. "Is that how you talk about important stuff like that?"

He hears his manager laugh from the other side of the line.

"Just be there. Today at 3 PM, is that okay?"

"Sure. See you!"

He hangs up and resumes his shopping, already wanting to crawl back into bed.

*****

"There he is! I thought we wouldn't see your pretty face in a long, long time."

Taeyong sighs dramatically and takes the seat next to Jaehyun, facing Yuta and Doyoung.

"I thought so too" comments Yuta, taking a look at the menu like he isn't going to pick the same damn thing he picks every week. "I'm surprised you're still standing."

"But I'm not" states Taeyong, yawning. "I'm sitting."

"Ha, ha. Very funny. Did you have clown broth for breakfast?"

"Disgusting." Doyoung raises a hand and flashes a smile towards the waitress, who smiles back and gives him a nod before disappearing behind the counter. "I'm assuming we're all having the same as always."

"Too late to say otherwise" mutters Yuta, putting down the menu and crossing his arms. "So, Taeyong. Mind telling us what was all of that last night? You looked distressed after all the speeches. Like you were going to throw up or something."

Taeyong stiffens.

"It was nothing. I just went overboard with all the drinking, that's all."

"Yeah, but what about...?" There's a slight noise coming from under the table and Jaehyun clears his throat, hiding like a pro the fact that Doyoung just kicked his leg. "What about the party in general? Did you have fun?"

Taeyong shrugs.

"I did. How about you?"

"Yeah, tell us, Jaehyun." The mischievous grin Yuta gives him is enough to make the younger squirm in his seat. "Did you have fun?"

"Oh, shut up."

They laugh and chat for an hour or so, enjoying the breakfast and catching up, commenting things about their respective jobs, telling funny stories about the most random things and mocking each other from time to time, and Taeyong is grateful that no one brings up the whole Ten thing again. He'll need help on deciding what to do, eventually, but not right now. 

Right now, he's just happy that he gets to hang up with friends without worrying too much about anything.

"Hold on a second" requests Doyoung, checking his phone as soon as an incoming call pops on the screen. 

"I've never seen him pick up a call this fast," comments Yuta, amused.

"Oooooh does Doie have a significant other?"

"Significant other, my ass." He rolls his eyes the second he picks up. "Good morning to you too. Right, sure. Mmmmmhm." Taeyong perks up. He has the feeling that Ten is at the other side of the line —which is funny because in all the years he's known Doyoung it only happened once that Ten called his friend while he's with him. "You have to be kidding me... no. Also no. I didn't! I swear I gave him the report a week ago, and... Yes, I know you believe me, but that means... Hmm. Right. Okay." Doyoung sighs and pushes away his unfinished cup of tea, and the three of them exchange curious glances. "What're you going to do?" he asks, concern dripping in his voice.

"Hey, Doie" whispers Yuta, "everything okay?"

Doyoung shoots him a look and shakes his head.

"Okay. Let me know as soon as you have any news. And for God's sake stay away from pills, did you hear me? Okay, see you. Call me."

He hangs up and lets out a sigh, leaning back on his seat with his eyes closed.

"...I know I was the one who set the no-talking-about-him rule, but... pills? What were you talking about? Is he okay?"

Well, Ten is obviously not okay if he's taking pills. 

And Taeyong is not okay either, having broken his own ignoring-Ten policy and ignoring why he did that. It just... slipped.

Back in the day when he met Doyoung, he had just moved to Korea and they met through a friend in common. Neither of them had any idea that they both knew Ten; they found out months later and by accident when they were having a sleepover and the Thai had suddenly asked Doyoung at 1 AM to Facetime because something had happened at work and they needed to discuss a solution as soon as possible. 

It was a shock for Taeyong, and after hours and hours of senseless rambling, they had agreed that they would just pretend Ten didn't exist as much as they could. It was a win-win situation: Taeyong could heal without having the constant feeling that his past was on his heels and Doyoung would be forbidden of talking about work —which was good because he was an absolute workaholic and he really needed a break.

Doyoung opens his eyes and studies his friend from across the table.

Taeyong looks like... he doesn't know what he looks like. He looks worried but as if he's having a mental battle against himself, engines turning and everything. It's like he's just asked a question he doesn't want to know the answer to, which is exactly what happened. He's playing with his fingers, pulling his cuticles and biting on his nails from time to time, but he looks...

Sincere.

Doyoung sighs.

"Yes, pills. But he's okay, don't worry."

"How can he be okay if he's taking pills?"

"They're just to control his blood pressure. I assure you, he's fine."

"Yeah, okay, but..." 

"No buts, Taeyong. I'm... hey. Look at me," Taeyong complies and his friend gives him a soft smile, "I'm taking care of him, okay? You don't need to worry."

Taeyong deflates on his chair.

"Okay. I'm sorry. I'm just... I..."

"You're worried about an old friend," comments Yuta, nodding, "it's normal. Stop trying to apologise for normal human behaviour."

Taeyong pouts.

"I wasn't going to."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, honey", he winks, and the four of them laugh softly.

Fifteen minutes after that, they part ways. Doyoung hops into his car saying something about having a rough day ahead and to remember him if he passes out; Yuta receives a text from Jungwoo inviting him to lunch; Jaehyun has to get ready for a photoshoot; and Taeyong, despite being quite early, heads to the company for his meeting.

The clouds are starting to clear and shy rays of sunlight caress Taeyong's face as he walks towards the building and it lifts up his mood, even when he realizes that it's barely midday when he arrives to the company. He still has three hours to go.

Taeyong wanders around, peering into practice rooms and debating between rehearsing or simply lying on the floor. He could use the time to write some lyrics. He's just not in the mood to do so. He's... distracted. 

In the end, he chooses to go up to the cafeteria for a light snack before deciding on what to do with his free time. Going back to his house is not an option, because he knows that if he gives in to temptation he's going to get into bed to watch a series and eventually fall asleep. So he settles for grabbing a yoghurt. He's about to go search for an empty practice room when someone calls him from one of the tables and he turns, happy to hear that voice.

"Hey hyung! Come sit with us!"

"Hey, Mark", Taeyong approaches and high-fives him and the other two boys before taking a seat. "Jaem, Jeno, how are y'all? How're you doing? Are you getting enough rest? Eating well?"

"Easy there," laughs Mark, taking a mouthful of his sandwich. "We're good, stop worrying."

"Don't talk with your mouth full!"

Jeno laughs, his eyes turning into little crescent moons as he does so. He has grown up well, Taeyong notices, something warm spreading across his chest. All three of them. Having watched them grow and seeing them now, tall, strong and much more confident on themselves than they were when they just debuted makes him feel proud.

Not that he's going to mention it. They'd probably laugh at his cheesiness.

"We're good. We're preparing for a comeback in a month or so and the album came out pretty good," says Jeno, eyes glowing, "now we have to talk to Hyuck to work on the choreo."

"And Jisung", comments Jaemin.

"And Jisung. I tend to forget about him having power over us."

"Power?" Taeyong looks confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, right, you probably didn't hear a thing since you were busy with your last comeback." Mark rummages in his backpack with one hand, distracted, and pulls out a tupperware with freshly sliced watermelon. He opens it and places it in the centre of the table before continuing to speak, "You know how Jisung used to help Hyuck to come up with choreographies and stuff?" Taeyong nodded. "Well, as soon as Jisung turned eighteen Hyuck practically forced the company to hire him as an assistant choreographer. He's still our backup dancer, though."

"So now you have two choreographers?"

"Yup. I doubt we're getting rid of Hyuck anytime soon," says Jaemin with a dramatic sigh, earning a slap in the arm from Jeno. "We're stuck with them."

"Tragic."

Taeyong laughs softly. 

"Good luck to you all. If you need any help, call me", he says, smiling, "I'll be glad to."

"We will," says Jaemin, dead serious. "Someone needs to stop Donghyuck."

Mark rolls his eyes and turns to him, munching on a piece of watermelon. He's so adorable Taeyong wants to squish his cheeks.

"So," he says, "are you preparing something right now?"

"Mmm. My manager called this morning to talk about the next comeback, but we haven't discussed the date yet."

"Didn't you finish with promotions like," Jeno pauses, thinking, "a month ago?"

"I did. With DMD comeback being... when did you guys tell me it will be?"

"Next month," answers Jaemin, sipping from his large cup of iced coffee. "Last week of March."

"Right. I don't think they're putting me up on a stage for at least two months more."

"You sure hope so", jokes Mark.

Taeyong whines.

"I do."

Before they can even notice it's almost 2 PM and they have to go back to the practice rooms to meet with Hyuck and Jisung, so they say their goodbyes and leave, but Taeyong stays in the cafeteria a little longer. He buys himself a salad and a bottle of cold water and munches his food while eventually scrolling on his phone, bored to death. 

The cafeteria is a nice place, and Taeyong has so many memories there that he has grown fond of it.

It occupies almost the entire fifth floor of the building, with quite a few windows overlooking the park in front and through which the sun shines through most of the year. With light ceramic floors to make cleaning easier and white walls with pictures and ornaments related to the groups and singers of the company, it's almost like the living room of a huge family. There are sticky notes here and there, too, mostly messages of encouragement directed at no one in particular or reminders of important dates.

Taeyong himself has left some of those notes: from where he's sitting he can see a pink one with the date of his debut, or another, a yellow one, with the number #1 from when he got his first win at a music show. There's even a photo that Taeyong pasted on a wall himself, a snapshot of him with the guys from DMD —Mark, Jaemin and Jeno plus Hyuck and Jisung. He should do the same with a pic of him with Yuta someday. 

Yawning, Taeyong checks the time: the meeting starts in twenty minutes. He gathers his things and empties the tray in the trash can, waving goodbye to the lady behind the counter before walking to the stairs. He stops briefly in the restroom to make sure he looks decent and to wash his hands, and then continues on his way to the 10th floor. 

The meeting, as Taeyong expected, is exactly like all the ones he's had since he debuted: a small team of people plus his manager talking about possible concepts, discussing how long it would take to get everything ready to set an approximate date for the album's release, consulting him on which producers he would like to work with and so on. 

It's quite boring.

In the end, they project an approximate date: Taeyong will have a whole month off —courtesy of his manager, and then three more months to prepare the mini-album, so the comeback will take place in July. More or less. 

Taeyong is okay with that; he doesn't survive long off stage anyway. 

"Oh, and Taeyong," calls his manager before wrapping up the meeting, "I received a call this morning. Xiaojun's manager. The Chinese singer? I'm not sure if you know him..."

"Oh, Xiao!" Taeyong smiles, recalling the long talk they had the night before. "Yes, of course I know him, I love his work. I met him last night, too."

"Well, he called because apparently, Xiaojun wants to make a collab with you. I wanted to ask you first before giving him an answer, so what do you say? I already spoke to the higher-ups and they said it's fine, so it's up to you."

Taeyong's smile widens. 

"Of course! Tell him I said yes. I'm looking forward to working with him."

He'd never have expected a request like this, and the idea excites him. Sure, they have completely different styles, but that's the best part. Could they make it work?

"Okay, then that's all for today. I'll send you Xiaojun's contact info later. Thank you" his manager says, bowing politely to the rest of the team, "and you, enjoy your little holidays."

Taeyong mouths a silent "thank you" and leaves the meeting room, relieved that he's actually gonna have some time to himself. Now with renewed energy, he decides he's gonna try and practice a little bit before going home.

His favourite rehearsal room, the one with a narrow but long window near the ceiling and the world's most comfortable sofa in one corner, welcomes him with open arms. It's empty and silent except for a couple of birds singing on the other side of the glass, soft rays of sunlight tinting the space in the softest shade of gold. Taeyong leaves his cellphone, wallet and keys on a small table by the door and takes off his coat, walking around the room in a large circle while rolling his shoulders a couple of times. He's stiff.

After a quick warm-up, he connects his cell phone to the speakers and searches for the song that has been stuck in his head since he first heard it. It's instrumental and a little bit dramatic, and he had chosen to choreography a contemporary routine for it. It's very different from his style, but that's exactly why he's so obsessed with getting it right. He loves challenges.

And he gets frustrated easily, too, but it doesn't really matter because, in the end, he always pushes through.

Hours later, he decides to film himself to stop paying attention to the mirrors and watch the performance from a different perspective.

"That was actually pretty decent" mutters Taeyong, watching the video. It's still far from perfect, but it's a huge improvement compared to the day before.

He finally stops when he sees that it's starting to get dark outside, and he gathers his things to go home. When he's leaving he passes by the door of one of the largest practice rooms, and seeing the guys from DMD plus Hyuck and Jisung still working, he decides to buy them a few snacks from one of the vending machines and leaves them at the door.  
The walk home helps him cool down his muscles after all the physical activity, something Taeyong appreciates since he forgot to stretch. It's almost thirty blocks, anyway, and at some point he regrets not taking the bus or calling an Uber, but he makes it. 

Home, sweet home.

****

...home, sweet home.

Right.

Taeyong rolls to one side and then to another, grunting.

He can't believe how bored he is.

He was so excited at the perspective of having a whole free month that as soon as he got home he took a bath, made some coffee, watched an episode, played some games and even called his parents... all in the span of two hours.

And now he's bored.

Sighing, he unlocks his phone and calls Doyoung. 

"Did something happen? I'm in the middle of a meeting."

"This late? It's Saturday."

"Taeyong. Why did you call? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just bored. I was going to ask you if you wanted to come over, but if you're busy..."

Taeyong stops talking when he hears some serious shouting from the other side of the line. He thinks he hears Ten's voice for a moment and has to remind himself that _no_ , he's not going delusional and _yes_ , his friend _does_ work with Ten. 

"Fine, I'm coming in an hour or two. Depends on how well we deal with this."

"Fighting!"

"Cook me something nice!" 

Now that's something Taeyong can look forward too.

With renewed energy, he jumps out of bed and heads to the kitchen. Since he took care of the shopping that morning he can choose what to cook without worrying too much about whether he has the ingredients or not, so he starts pulling things out of the fridge and stacking them on the counter, focused. He chops some vegetables and some meat, cooks some noodles and then lets them settle in cold water, mixes up some sauces with the broth and fries a small amount of kimchi. Next, he puts two cans of beer in the fridge and, after double-checking that everything's cooking in the right way, he heads to the living room and turns on the TV.

And almost two hours later and when everything's perfectly cooked and TV already bored him too, he turns it off and deflates over the couch.

And he thinks.

He's been avoiding thinking about it all day, but now that he has nothing to distract himself with, Ten's face pops in his head. Him, his cautious eyes and the way he looked at him like he wanted to say something but he couldn't, and the way he...

_Pling!_

Thank God. 

|21.35| **DOYOUNG:** Just got out

|21.35| **DOYOUNG:** Worst experience of my life

|21.35| **ME:** saved me from spiraling

|21.35| **ME:** thx

|21.36| **DOYOUNG:** ?

|21.36| **DOYOUNG:** I'm on my way

|21.36| **DOYOUNG:** Be there in 15

Taeyong sighs and walks around his apartment, fixing little things. He hits the couch cushions a couple of times to make them softer, makes sure the living room rug has no folds, wipes the coffee table, even lights a scented candle. He's uneasy and he knows it, but he prefers to keep doing small tasks rather than sitting around doing nothing and allowing his mind to wander to dangerous places.

By the time Doyoung arrives, Taeyong has the table ready and the food just served. He helps his friend hang up his coat and offers him a can of beer as they settle into the living room.

"You look like crap," comments Taeyong, "enjoy your meal."

Doyoung snorts. He takes the bowl between his hands and closes his eyes as he smells the food, taking a deep breath and relaxing afterwards. He looks tired, incredibly so; there are deep dark circles under his eyes, his shoulders hunched as if he's carrying a huge weight on them, and despite having seen him this morning Taeyong feels like his friend has aged one year or two since then.

"Thank you," he says softly, "for cooking. I thought you were going to order Chinese or something. Not that I'd complain."

"Except you would."

"True."

Taeyong picks up a pair of chopsticks and takes a bite of meat. It's delicious. Maybe he should quit the whole idol thing and do this instead. 

Sounds tempting.

"How was work?" he asks cautiously, looking at Doyoung sideways. "It sounded pretty... hectic when I called you."

"I was. How was your day? Anything interesting?"

Taeyong studies his friend for a while and then puts his chopsticks aside, turning on the couch to face him. Doyoung arches a brow.

"Doyoung. Talk to me."

"Taeyong" he replies, imitating his tone, "we talked about this years ago, remember? No work-related chit-chat between us unless it's about you."

"I'm fine, really. If you had a rough day please talk to me. I've never seen you this stressed."

Doyoung shakes his head.

"Sorry to break it to you, but 90% of my day was Ten. Ten this, Ten that. Ten asked this and then Ten did that", he says, humming satisfied as he takes a mouthful of bread. "So let's talk about other things. Like how pretty the waitress at our cafe is."

"I'm serious, you don't have to... hey," Taeyong frowns, confused, "the waitress? Really? Why am I hearing about this just now?"

Doyoung laughs. 

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I don't even know her name."

"You don't need to know someone's name to find them pretty."

"True," Doyoung raises his eyebrows, leaning closer to Taeyong and whispering, "why? Has it happened to you?"

"What kind of question is that?" he whines, pushing him away. Doyoung laughs again and takes a spoon to attack the soup again, but then the older realizes how well the other played him. "Nice try, though, but we're still talking about how your day at work."

"Why are you so interested in my day at work all of a sudden? You never ask, why now?" he asks teasingly, wiggling his eyebrows.

Taeyong has to make a conscious effort not to blush, but the tips of his ears turn red nonetheless. 

"Stop avoiding the subject, I'm serious. You can talk to me."

Doyoung analyzes him for a bit, letting out a long breath afterwards. He looks much more relaxed after having finished his meal, but not completely. 

"You sure?" Taeyong nods. "Okay." Doyoung shifts in his place, placing the empty bowl and the can of beer over the coffee table and getting more comfortable before talking again. "It's been... a mess, lately. The board of the central company is trying to sabotage all the agreements of the sub-branches of China and Korea because they believe that this way they will destabilize the CEO of said company. Basically," he pauses, looking for the right words, "the more shares you have in a company, the greater your power of decision on any small matter that concerns that company."

"And you're the CEO of that company?" asks Taeyong, astonished.

Doyoung laughs.

"No, not even close. I'm the CFO of the Korean sub-branch of that central company. But they're getting in the way of a lot of things here and it's stressing me out."

"Mmm. And why do they want to destabilize the CEO?"

"Because of what I just explained to you. A few years ago the CEO had only 45% of the total shares, but he managed to recover a good percentage of them and now he has near 70%, which gives him the final word on the vast majority of matters to be discussed. And the members of the board... well, it pisses them off." 

Taeyong nods along, processing his words. He has a question, though, and it slips past his lips before he can even think whether he wants to know the answer or not.

"Then what's Ten's job? Did he get into trouble with those people and that's why he's here? They sent him back?"

Doyoung gives him a funny look.

"He got into trouble with those people, yes. But I would like to see them try to boss him around." Taeyong frowns. Why is Doyoung being so cryptic? He barely understands a word of what he just said and now he has to guess whatever it is that he's trying to say? Doyoung must see his confusion because he shakes his head. "Taeyong, he is _the_ CEO."

Oh.

That, he didn't see it coming.

"You're kidding, right?"

"I'm not." Doyoung shrugs "I wish I was, though, do you know how hard it is to keep up with Ten? That man is crazy."

"So he's your boss", says Taeyong slowly, trying to wrap his mind around all these new concepts. 

"He is. The central company is originally from Thailand, from Ten's family. He took over as the CEO about... five years ago, I think." Doyoung looks at him, curious. "I thought you knew that."

"I..." 

He didn't. He didn't know. Five years ago, he said? That's...

And then it hits him. Five years ago he had his debut, right? That was the last time Taeyong saw Ten, the day he went up on stage for the first time. And it was the same year he became a CEO? A fucking CEO? What was he, nineteen? Twenty? Then... then could it be that that was the reason he became more distant? Because of his job? Or his family? Could it be?

He swears he's going to go crazy.

"Hey, you oka...?

"Doyoung," Taeyong interrupts him, his voice surprisingly steady, and Doyoung watches him inquisitive, "I wanna talk to him." 

A pause. 

Doyoung stares at him for a whole minute, weighing what to say or what to do.

And Taeyong, well, he has his heart up in his throat. But not because of what can come out of a potential conversation with Ten, no, that part he has it resolved. Kind of. What he fears the most at the moment is that Doyoung may judge him and what verdict he may reach. Taeyong knows that Doyoung values Ten more than he understands himself, and that's why he's anxious: he's waiting for his friend to tell him whose side he's going to take.

But Doyoung seems neutral when he speaks.

"Do you remember what happened last time you tried to reach for him?", he asks softly.

Taeyong remembers.

It all happened when they were having a sleepover and Ten called Doyoung to discuss something about work. They Facetimed and Ten never saw him, but Taeyong did. He heard Ten's voice. And it shook him to the core. Doyoung noticed and asked him about it, and Taeyong eventually opened up. 

He told him everything: about how Ten used to be his best friend since they were four, about how they grew up together, about how Taeyong had never questioned Ten's presence in his life and how he really thought they would grow old together, about how Ten's family dragged him back to Thailand when they were sixteen and how in three years they only saw each other less than five times. He also told him about how Ten distanced himself from Taeyong, and he even related that time he paid the younger a surprise visit and how for a week it seemed like nothing had changed at all.

That night, Taeyong cried. A lot. And after crying, he asked Doyoung for Ten's number.

And Doyoung gave it to him.

For a week or so, Taeyong didn't text. Or called. But then, one night he went out for drinks with some friends and ended up calling Ten. When Taeyong woke up the next day with a throbbing headache and saw the number of outgoing calls, he panicked and called Doyoung to tell him that he had made a mistake and that he didn't remember what he said that he shouldn't have given him Ten's number, but his friend calmed him down.

Actually, Doyoung had given him his own number, the number of the phone he used to work. It was wrong, he knew that, but he had the feeling that they would end up in a situation like that. Taeyong got angry at first, but then he understood that he wasn't ready to talk to Ten. He wasn't going to thank Doyoung for that, but he was glad that Ten never heard a word from him.

When asked about his reasons to do that, Doyoung said that it wasn't to protect Taeyong, but Ten. 

"Why?" Taeyong asked, confused.

"He's been through a lot" Doyoung stated, and Taeyong didn't say a word more.

Returning to the present time, Taeyong sighs. He knows Doyoung has a point.

"Back at the time I still blamed him for what happened. I was being childish. Now I... I can't say that I don't blame him, but I understand that not everything is black or white." Taeyong fidgets with his fingers, trying to express what he's feeling. "I don't want an apology or run into his arms. I just... I want closure. Thank him for all the years we spent together and wish him a good life. Getting rid of this weird mix of anger and sadness. That kind of thing. I think we both deserve it."

Doyoung nods slowly, weighing his words. 

"I think he would agree to that. If that's what you need, then I think... I think you should do it."

Taeyong smiles, relieved. He feels like a huge weight has been lifted off his shoulders.

"Thank you," he says softly.

Doyoung smiles back, reaching for his hand and giving it a squeeze.

They talk for a while more, but after half an hour Doyoung announces that he's leaving because he needs to sleep. Taeyong asks him a hundred times if he's sure he can drive as he walks him out, and Doyoung considers putting a muzzle on him.

"I'm fine" he grunts, hopping into his car. 

Taeyong is giving him a disapproving look, but it softens once he remembers something important.

"Could you give me Ten's number?" he asks, doubtful. "For real, this time?"

Doyoung offers him his phone and instructs him to copy it because as soon as he gets home he's probably going to pass out and he'll never send it to him.

"Goodbye! Be careful!"

Taeyong goes back upstairs to his apartment, feeling lighter than he has in a long time. He washes the dishes and turns off all the lights before climbing onto his bed and covering himself up to his chin, staring at the ceiling like it's the most fascinating thing in the world.

He feels at peace. 

Closure. Finally.

He's falling asleep when a thought pops in his head and he complies, stretching an arm to grab his phone. It's not midnight yet, which means...

Taking a deep breath, he types a quick text and puts his phone back on the nightstand, dozing off as soon as his head touches the pillow again.

|11.34| **ME:** happy birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there!  
> I hope you're enjoying this as much as I do. This chapter is obviously slow-paced, but I needed to make it that way for the first two or three chapters because I wanted to show how Taeyong's life works aside from Ten and how that first encounter after years affected him.   
> Anyway, things are going to speed up a little from now on. Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment if you feel like it, it really motivates me <3  
> See you next week, take care!


	5. Lost It To Trying

The next day, Taeyong isn't even fully awake when his brain screams at him to go check his phone and see if Ten replied to his text. 

It's strange, but as he reaches for the device on his nightstand, all the peace he felt the night before right before falling asleep is gone. He feels uneasy, apprehensive even, the kind of feeling you get when you did something wrong and you don't want to be discovered nor face your previous actions. 

It's not like he did something terrible, anyway. It's just that... well, it's not easy for him to wrap his mind around the fact that there might be a text from Ten after all these years. What if he tells him to fuck off? What if he never gets to talk with him? 

Well, then all the closure thing might get a little tricky.

Rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hands, Taeyong sits on his bed against the headboard, taking a look at the window at his left. It must be quite early in the morning because the sky still has that grey-ish tone typical of the hour before the sunrise. 

He unlocks his phone.

"Oh."

He has a few texts, but none of them is from Ten. 

Taeyong lets out a long breath that he didn't know he was holding.

Honestly, what did he expect?

"Okay, let's not jump to conclusions," he mutters, opening Doyoung's chat.

|06.05| **ME:** hey doie

|06.05| **ME:** this is Ten's number, right?

|06.05| **ME:** 001 66 8XX XXX XXX

|06.06| **DOYOUNG:** Yeap

Taeyong bites his lower lip, thinking hard. Maybe Ten didn't see his text? But he sent it before midnight, what were the chances of him going to sleep that early? Okay, so perhaps he had extra work and fell asleep when he got home, or...

|06.06| **DOYOUNG:** What the hell are you doing awake, anyway? Didn't you have a few weeks off?

|06.06| **ME:** yeah, but I woke up on my own

|06.06| **ME:** my body got used to it, I guess

|06.07| **ME:** what are YOU doing awake, by the way?

|06.07| **DOYOUNG:** ...you literally woke me up

Taeyong lets out a low groan and buries his face in a pillow. 

|06.08| **ME:** okay I'm sorry go back to sleep I won't disturb you again

|06.08| **ME:** and learn how to mute your phone

|06.08| **ME:** you know, just in case

|06.08| **DOYOUNG:** please let me sleep

Taeyong chuckles. He checks again the one text he sent to Ten the night before and stares at the screen for a solid minute.

_Happy birthday._

It was a little bit out of the blue, to be completely honest to himself. Taeyong should've known better. What did he expect, a _thank you_? 

Yeah, maybe it wasn't the best starter after almost six years of ghosting. Not that he was the one that initiated it, but...

|06.10| **DOYOUNG:** Ten sent me a text like three hours ago saying that we should buy a new coffee machine for the main conference room

|06.10| **DOYOUNG:** He probably got home at ass o'clock and is sleeping

|06.10| **DOYOUNG:** Okay bye I need my beauty sleep

Taeyong's train of thought is still quite slow because of sleep, so it takes a while until he understands that Doyoung probably guessed that he texted Ten and was worried about not getting an answer, hence the explanation about the thai's behaviour.

Sighing, he places his phone back on the nightstand and slides under the covers again. He lets the minutes pass while looking at the window, thinking about nothing on particular. 

Outside the sky turns pink, and then orange, and then the sun rises above Seoul. It's truly beautiful, and Taeyong is grateful that he can enjoy the sight from the comfort of his bed and not half-asleep and from the backseat of his manager's car. He's gotten so used to having a packed schedule that whenever he can just sit back and relax and enjoy the little things... he's grateful.

His mind wanders to nothingness itself for a long time but inevitably ends up settling on Ten. More specifically, in Ten and sunrises.

By the time Ten turned eighteen and they hadn't seen each other for nearly a year, the calls and texts became less frequent. It was in the months leading up to Taeyong's debut, where he was so tired after hours and hours of practice, costume fittings, and recording sessions that he barely had any energy when he got home. Taeyong kept telling him about his day through texts though, but Ten always replied that he couldn't use the phone because he was in a meeting or doing some urgent paperwork and that he preferred to call him at night, once they both finished working. 

The thing is, once night came and Taeyong called, they barely managed to speak for a few minutes before Ten fell asleep.

Now, Taeyong has always been a loving and caring person towards others. Especially with Ten. So the first few times his soft, deep breathing replaced his voice on the other side of the line, Taeyong cooed and let him sleep. 

But as the debut date got closer and he had more and more pressure and stress building up, it started to bother him. If his own body was exhausted but he could still manage to stay awake for a while to talk to his best friend, why couldn't Ten do the same? From what he told him, he had an office job. Sure, he was probably mentally drained, but seriously, couldn't he fight the sleep for a bit? Half an hour? To talk to him, just once a week?

Of course, Taeyong never noticed how mean he was being to Ten until almost a year later when the younger started ghosting him. He never talked to him about the matter, though, nor he said something hurtful, but the resentment was still there. And it hurt Taeyong to know that he'd thought about his friend like that.

A month and a half before his debut, the company gave Taeyong ten days of vacation to rest and see his loved ones before he plunged into the maelstrom of idol life. He spent the first three days in his house with his parents, but then an idea popped into his head and he rushed to check his savings. A few hours later, he was getting on a plane to Thailand. He wasn't sure what to expect at that time, and there was a little voice in his head telling him that it was a bad idea, but he decided to go anyway.

Before the plane took off, he texted Ten telling him what he had just done. To his surprise, upon arriving at the Bangkok airport, Ten was there. Taeyong flinched a bit when he saw him, unsure of what his reaction would be, but Ten ran up to him with the biggest smile and squeezed him into a hug.

After the predictable "what are you doing here?" and the "how have you been?", Taeyong followed Ten outside the airport to the younger's car, hopping in and talking nonstop. It wasn't until Ten had been driving for about half an hour that Taeyong realized they were leaving Bangkok behind. He remembers asking if they weren't going to his house and he also remembers the bitter smile that the younger gave him. 

Two hours later and after an intense karaoke session that left them with a stomach ache from laughter, Ten parked at the entrance of what appeared to be a section of cabins, lost among the trees. And in the background, the sea.

Ten had taken them to the beach.

As Taeyong tried to process everything as quickly as possible, Ten struggled to pick up two suitcases from the trunk of the car, only one of which was from Taeyong.

"You planned this?" had asked Taeyong, astonished, "How? You had like... two hours to do so."

Ten didn't reply and just smiled at him.

Thus they spent the whole week; occasionally splashing in the sea, sunbathing, doing their best to cook a decent meal, going out for a walk at night. Except for a couple of days where the famous rainy season made an appearance, they spent almost every day enjoying the beach. It just so happened that the day Taeyong had to catch his flight back to Korea was his birthday, so Ten had made sure to get enough food and drinks to spend the night before on the beach. He even lit a candle and held it in his hand for Taeyong to make a wish.

Looking back, maybe deep down they knew that something would happen after that day. They didn't even talk much that night. The sky was clear and, being far away from the city lights, they could see more stars than they could possibly count. But they tried anyway, starting from zero countless times, shoulder by shoulder and laughing like it was the most hilarious thing they'd ever done.

And just like that and before they knew, the sun began to rise. Ten had joked that that was his birthday gift, but Taeyong couldn't laugh. It was the most beautiful sunrise he'd ever watched, and all jokes aside, it was the best gift he could've possibly asked for.

It was truly the happiest birthday Taeyong had in his whole life. 

A few rays of sunshine begin to creep in through the window, timidly stroking Taeyong's face, and he smiles. He stays there, enjoying the warmth of the sun, wrapped up in fuzzy blankets and in the heartwarming memory until the alarm goes off at eight.

He gets up, but he doesn't do much for the rest of the morning. 

After a light breakfast, he cleans up a bit. He should probably do a deep cleaning one of these days, but he refuses to do it on his first day of official vacation. Instead, he checks what's missing in the house and makes a list. For example, he should buy soil for his plants; get a lightweight bed cover for now, when the days start to get hotter; renew his skincare stock, and so on. It's almost a fun thing to do, and he keeps himself entertained for a while. Once he's done with the list, he hangs it on the fridge with a magnet.

And then he goes blank.

What could he possibly do on a Sunday? Most of his friends have the day off, but for that exact reason they're all probably resting after a long week. He sure knows that Doyoung will be napping the whole day, and with Seoul Fashion Week taking place in a couple of weeks, Yuta, Jaehyun and even Jungwoo are busy as hell. 

Taeyong's starting to consider calling Taeil when the screen of his phone lights up with a new text. 

|09.37| **TEN:** who's this?

Taeyong takes the phone and opens the message. He's not sure of how to respond. Should he be formal? Or the opposite? Would that make things awkward? 

Taeyong fixes his eyes in a random spot in the kitchen wall and stares at it for a solid minute, realizing how dumb he's being. It's just Ten. And they're both adults. Why is he overthinking like this?

Sighing, he types a quick reply.

|09.39| **ME:** It's Taeyong

He tries to take his eyes off the screen but it's like an invisible force keeps them glued to the small space at his left, right above the writing bar, exactly where a new message should appear.

|09.41| **TEN:** Taeyong? As in Lee Taeyong?

|09.41| **ME:** is there another Taeyong that could possibly wish you a happy birthday?

|09.42| **TEN:** ...not really, no

|09.42| **TEN:** I'm just surprised you contacted me

For what is worth, Taeyong is surprised too.

|09.43| **TEN:** How did you get my number?

|09.43| **ME:** Doyoung

|09.43| **TEN:** I'm firing him

Taeyong laughs. Genuinely, from his chest. He's not fully aware of it, but the awkwardness is quickly replaced with something more familiar and a slight smile keeps pulling from the corners of his mouth as he reads the new messages.

|09.44| **TEN:** So, Lee Taeyong

|09.44| **TEN:** Why did you text me? 

|09.44| **TEN:** Other than to give me an excuse to fire Doyoung

|09.44| **TEN:** Which I appreciate, of course

Of course, the spell couldn't last long.

Taeyong remembers that he originally texted to have closure, not to talk again and laugh at the bullshit he says, and then he realizes how strange the whole situation must be for Ten. Two nights ago they saw each other again after years and Taeyong was drunk, completely wasted, making an effort to dodge him..., only to send him a happy birthday text not even a day after.

He gets it. It's weird.

He thinks long and hard about what he wants, if he wants explanations, if he wants an apology, if he wants to talk, or what. In the end, he decides to be honest.

|09.47| **ME:** I wanted to know if we could meet 

For a brief moment, Taeyong thinks that Ten's going to ignore him. Maybe he should explain himself a little instead of...

|09.47| **TEN:** you wanna talk, right?

|09.47| **ME:** yeah

|09.48| **ME:** don't worry, I don't want to dig into the past 

|09.48| **ME:** or cause you trouble or anything like that

|09.48| **ME:** just... talk

This time the reply takes a little longer. Minutes pass by and Taeyong starts to think that that was all. Maybe he scared Ten off. 

Well, at least he tried.

He's about to give up and turn on the coffee machine for the second time that morning when a new message pops in his phone screen.

|09.55| **TEN:** I know

|09.55| **TEN:** I know you

Taeyong blinks.

What's that supposed to mean?

|09.55| **TEN:** I'm free today, you up for coffee?

|09.56| **ME:** oh, there's no rush

|09.56| **ME:** Doyoung told me you worked until late last night

|09.56| **ME:** you should rest

What on earth is he doing? Taeyong knows that it's not a rushed request and he's sure this is what he wants, but now that Ten offered..., now that Ten offered, maybe he's not so sure. Like, he is, but he doesn't want to go. Taeyong is aware that this is what he needs, but...

But, but, but. There's always a but.

And there's also an annoying thought itching at the very back of his mind, but he pushes it down and forces it to disappear before he can even know what is it about.

|09.57| **TEN:** I'm offering today because it's my free day

|09.57| **TEN:** It's either today or in

|09.57| **TEN:** Hold on let me check my schedule

|09.59| **TEN:** ...two weeks

Yeah, that's too long for Taeyong's liking. He would very much prefer to rip the band-aid as soon as possible. It takes all of his willpower to type an okay and he barely makes it through the rest of the conversation, incapable of shaking off the feeling that he's making a mistake.

Sighing, he puts his phone down.

He's screwed.

A few hours later, Taeyong finds himself driving through the streets of Seoul without quite knowing where he's going. Once Ten sent him the location, he simply entered it into the GPS and followed the instructions recited by the robotic voice, paying little to no attention to his surroundings. 

But then he recognises the place.

The cafe Ten and Taeyong used to go to almost every day after school when they were kids. It's a small place with a large window and faded yellow walls, with a blackboard where you can read the menu hanging to one side of the wooden door. Although he can't see the insides from his car, Taeyong remembers every nook and cranny of that place as if it was his house. There used to be just seven small round wooden tables, a tall counter on one side, and lots of plants everywhere. It was a warm and welcoming environment, and the owner was a middle-aged woman who used to save a slice of their favourite cake for each of them. 

He stops the car right there, but then the GPS beeps and indicates him that he hasn't arrived yet. Frowning, Taeyong checks the map and he realizes that, indeed, the place Ten told him to go is on the next corner. 

Shrugging, he searches for an empty space and parks there.

The cafe that Ten chose is a lot more elegant than the little coffee shop they used to go to. It is considerably large and takes up the entire corner, with more than a dozen tables with small candles and vases of flowers on top. In the centre of the place there's a large fish tank decorated with various stones and artificial algae, among which a few tropical fish swim. The counter is practically at the back, and to one side, Taeyong sees a staircase that must lead to the first floor. A sign indicates that tables are available up there.

|16.01| **TEN:** up

So he's already there. 

Taeyong slowly approaches the stairs. From the brief conversation they had that morning until now, he thought that when the time to face Ten came he would be a nervous wreck, with his heart in his mouth or something like that, but all he feels right now is a sense of heaviness. It's as if each step he climbs towards Ten adds weight, but not on his shoulders. He feels it in his chest, where his heart seems to beat slower and slower, and in his mind, where a million thoughts buzz quietly.

Taeyong is surprised when a cool breeze welcomes him to the first floor, which turns out to be a terrace. There are only about five tables there, and only one is occupied. Of course, the winter season is ending just now, so who in their right mind would choose to sit outside?

However, Taeyong has to admit that the view is quite nice and the sun helps to mitigate the cold.

Ten is sitting at one of the tables next to the railing, apparently studying one of the buildings in front. He's leaning back in his chair, his hands in the pockets of his long black coat, frowning slightly as if he's trying to figure out something. His cheeks and the tip of his nose are rosy from the cold, but other than that, it doesn't seem like the weather bothers him at all. 

Ten seems to notice his gaze on him, because he looks away from his object of study and looks at Taeyong, smiling a little and raising a hand to signal him to come closer.

"Hey," says Taeyong, approaching him and standing awkwardly in front of him, "how are you?"

Ten raises an eyebrow, confused.

"Why don't you take a seat? Unless you wanna go inside...?"

"No, no, it's fine," replies Taeyong, sitting in front of him and undoing the buttons of his own coat. "Have you ordered yet?"

"Yeah, for the both of us. Hope you don't mind."

The older tilts his head, locking eyes with Ten.

"Hot white chocolate mocha with..."

"...vanilla, extra whipped cream and caramel, I hope," finishes Ten, smiling. Taeyong blinks a few times as he tries to come up with something to say, and in the meantime Ten's smile falls. "I'm sorry, did I get it wrong? I can go order something else..."

"No, no, it's perfect," blurts out the older, shaking his head. He notices that from there he can see the old, little coffee shop that caught his attention earlier, and he decides to ask. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"When I was coming here I passed by that coffee shop," Taeyong points at the small building, "and I thought we'd meet there. Why here instead?"

Ten follows the direction the elder's finger is pointing and nods, humming.

"Why would we?"

"It's just... I mean..." Taeyong shrugs nonchalantly like it's nothing, but deep down he doesn't like the other man's indifference. "Why not? It's our coffee shop."

"Used to be," corrects Ten, but Taeyong doesn't sense any kind of malice in his voice. He hums, not sure of what to say or how to start the conversation they're supposed to be having, and Ten studies him in silence. After a minute or so he speaks again, this time more softly. "I passed by as soon as I arrived to Korea," he admits, "but the owner passed away a couple of years ago and that cake we used to eat wasn't the same. It didn't taste as good. This cafe has better pastries, for what it's worth, so that's why I chose this place."

If he has to be completely honest with himself, Taeyong barely hears anything else after the "I passed by as soon as I arrived to Korea" part. He knows it doesn't mean anything, but it still gives him a weird feeling. It's like someone put sadness, irritation, longing, happiness and a little bit of anger, nostalgia and even hope into the blender and then replaced his heart with the mixture. His chest is somewhat tight and light at the same time, and he can almost hear his heartbeat in his ears.

"So, what did you want to talk about?"

Taeyong snaps out of his trance and realizes he's been quiet for a few minutes, judging by Ten's curious gaze. It's clear that he didn't style his hair that morning because the dark strands fall forward and over his eyes, making them appear considerably softer than the night of the party. 

As Taeyong collects his thoughts a tall waitress approaches them and places their food over the table, and Taeyong takes advantage of the small moment where Ten's distracted with the woman and thanking her to study him a bit. He feels like it won't be easy at all to talk to Ten about what he has in his mind, not only because it's been years and he feels quite stupid bringing this topic again, but also because despite how polite Ten has been since that morning, he seems... unapproachable. Sure, he remembered Taeyong's favourite coffee and ordered for him, smiled at him and tried to keep the conversation alive, but he was probably just being considerate. 

He's not cold at all, but he's distant. There's a wall between them and Taeyong isn't sure if it's because of the time and distance or because they're both guarded.

 _This won't do_ , Taeyong thinks, watching Ten as he tastes his coffee and nods in approval.

"You know, it kinda shook me to the core seeing you the other night," he blurts out before he can regret it. That catches Ten's attention and he looks him in the eye, waiting for him to elaborate. "Not necessarily in a bad way, but I realized that ignoring things doesn't make them go away."

Ten sips from his coffee before putting it away, intertwining his fingers over the table and nodding understandingly.

"I know what you mean," he says. "Been there."

"You've been there? Not anymore, then?" Taeyong asks, trying to decipher what Ten means by that. When the younger man says nothing, he sighs. "Okay, I get it, you don't want to talk."

"It's not that. I just don't know what to say yet."

"Then I'll do the talking." Taeyong takes a deep breath. "Look, when you stopped answering my calls I was in a bad place," he starts, looking at the sky and missing the way Ten flinches in his seat at that sentence. "My debut album had quite an impact and that brought a lot of attention upon me. Once I grew familiar with the fan signs and the music shows and the rush of adrenaline disappeared, I realized that I was climbing fast to the top but I was alone. Like, professionally speaking, it couldn't be better, but a couple of months later I felt... lost."

Taeyong drops his gaze from the sky to Ten, who's watching him in silence. He still can't guess what the hell the younger's thinking.

"It's not an excuse, though," he continues, "but yesterday I realized that maybe I could've done something more when you started ghosting me. Maybe catch a flight to Thailand or something. I remember I called you every day for a week and then I gave up, so maybe if..."

"Why are you taking the blame?" asks Ten, his face still unreadable. "I was the one who cut ties with you, not the other way around."

"Still, I feel like I didn't do enough..."

"You did nothing wrong." Ten crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back on his seat, studying him. His voice is soft when he speaks again, but Taeyong feels like he's just been stabbed. "You couldn't have done anything to change my mind."

It's exactly the kind of thing Taeyong didn't want to hear, but it's also the kind of thing he needed to hear.

They look into each other's eyes for a while, the silence falling over them like a heavy, suffocating blanket. Ten's are a little bit more sincere now, but there's still a glint of wariness on them that frustrates Taeyong. What went wrong? Ten used to be the person Taeyong trusted the most, and vice versa, and now they can't even talk about something that happened years ago without feeling the need to calculate every word that comes out of their mouths.

"I don't want to know what happened," Taeyong states, and Ten widens his eyes a little. "Digging into the past will lead us nowhere, and I don't want an explanation or an excuse, or whatever. It's useless if we're strangers."

Ten taps the table with a finger. He didn't expect that. He went there with a well-prepared speech about what happened and ready to answer endless questions, so this destabilizes him a little. Of course, he never intended to tell Taeyong the whole story; there were things that it was best to keep in the dark. But even so...

"You want us to be complete strangers?" he finally asks, and his mouth goes dry when Taeyong nods without a second of doubt. "Okay, we can do that."

"I just wanted to see you because I feel like I needed some kind of closure. I'm not sure how it's done, but...", Taeyong scratches the back of his head, suddenly awkward again, and Ten suppresses an amused smile that the other never sees. "I wanted to say some things to you."

Ten nods, finishing his coffee and putting his mug aside, resting his elbows over the table and his face on his hands, silently indicating Taeyong that he has his full attention.

"First of all, I want to apologise to you if I ever did anything wrong. I mean it," Taeyong says, leaning in closer to Ten and shaking his head as soon as he sees the younger open his mouth to protest. "I don't buy the whole oh-look-how-distant-I-am facade that you've been showing since I got here. I don't know if you're still hurting, but I know that at some point you were." Ten blinks a few times, taken aback by that statement. "I'm not dumb. And I know you, so I'm sure that our friendship isn't something you'd throw under the bus without a good reason. So I'm sorry for doubting you back in the day."

Ten is not looking at him, instead choosing to focus on the table like it's the most fascinating thing on Earth. Taeyong has a feeling that he's not indifferent, though, so he keeps talking.

"And above all, I want to thank you." Taeyong plays with his fingers over the table, trying to find the correct words. "Thank you for being by my side for so many years, for supporting me and my dreams and for giving me a safe place since we were little. You helped me a lot, even when you moved back to Thailand." He pauses, reconsidering what to say next. He doesn't want to go overboard, but he feels like there are some things that he needs to say. "Ten, you're the best friend I've ever had. I don't care about how things ended, just...," Taeyong sighs, making an effort to complete the sentence, "thank you for all these years."

It's as if a great weight is lifted from Taeyong's shoulders at that moment, and he suddenly can breathe without having to worry about the lump in his throat. He has a slight pain in his chest, yes, and also a slight feeling of emptiness, but the relief is so great that it overshadows everything else. 

Ten, on the other hand, is quiet. The finger that had been tapping on the table for a while is still now, and his eyes are clouded as if he's spacing out, absorbed in something beyond the earthly plane. Taeyong decides to respect the silence and finishes his coffee without saying another word.

However, a few minutes later he has no idea what to do.

Taeyong thinks that Ten's not gonna say anything, so he buttons up his coat and is about to stand up to leave the cafe when he hears a quiet _thank you_. 

Ten finally raises his chin and looks at Taeyong, searching for the older's eyes with his own. They lock glances and Ten speaks again, this time a little louder:

"Thank you, Taeyong."

The man smiles, taking in his ex-best friend's face. Ten still has his cheeks and the tip of his nose rosy, and the cold breeze has slightly messed up his hair, but his eyes don't have that glint of wariness anymore. His face isn't an open book either, but it's much more sincere than it was a while ago. 

"It's okay," says Taeyong, though the look Ten is giving him makes it hard to believe his own words. He can't describe it, but he sees all the emotions that he felt earlier —that same sadness, irritation, longing, happiness, anger, nostalgia, hope and all the nasty things in between— revolving in his eyes, his dark irises shining under the pale sunlight. Taeyong looks away. "I'm gonna go now..."

"Wait," Ten says, reaching out for the older's hand. His touch is light as a feather and it surprises them both, but Ten doesn't back up. His fingers brush lightly over the back of Taeyong's hand as if he didn't dare put more weight on his touch, as if Taeyong was going to disintegrate if he did so. "I'm sorry."

Oh.

"I know, it's okay."

"No, I mean..." Ten seems to be struggling to find the words, his eyes wandering frantically from Taeyong's face, to his empty cup, to the table, to their hands, and back to Taeyong's face. His voice is slightly tinged with urgency when he speaks again, as if he's trying to make Taeyong understand something without saying it directly. " _I'm so sorry._ "

But if there's something more behind Ten's words, Taeyong doesn't catch it.

And just like that, they part ways. 

Taeyong lets out a shaky breath once he's alone, smiling and trying to convince himself that he did the right thing. Now he can move on, for real this time. And it's a relief.

However, as he drives back to his apartment, a single tear rolls down his cheek. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> those angsty bitches


	6. Gravity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taeyong knows it's weird, but it's as if an invisible force is trying to push him towards Ten, inviting him to orbit around the Thai man.

Everything is buzzing with energy when Taeyong arrives.

A few idols bow when they see him, excited to see him there, asking him if he's going to stay and watch all the performances and promising that they're going to do their best, motivated by the older's presence.

Taeyong chuckles. It's one of the things he loves the most, being capable to encourage others. 

The main corridor —the one to which all the dressing room doors converge, is packed. There are stylists, managers and idols chatting, laughing, getting scolded and even running from one room to another. It takes a while to get to the door he's looking for with all the hustle going on around him, but he makes it.

"Knock knock," sings Taeyong, cheerful, opening the door and poking his head into the dressing room with a big smile plastered in his lips.

"Hyung!" Mark runs to him and throws an arm over the older's shoulders, overexcited. "You came!"

"Of course I came," he retorts, pretending to be offended, "have I not come to each and every one of you comebacks? What is this lack of faith?"

"Yeah, Mark, take it back!" shouts Jaemin from the corner of the room, trying not to move too much as the makeup artist works on his face. "Taeyong hyung, you got all my loyalty. Want me to stab Mark in the back? I'll do it. Just say so and..."

Taeyong laughs when Jeno throws DMD's lucky plushie at Jaemin's head, making him jump in his seat. The makeup artist sighs and Mark approaches her to apologize in behalf of his members while Jeno giggles and Jaemin gives him a death glare.

It's quite an amusing sight.

"Okay children, behave," says Taeyong in a low voice, and Mark scoffs at him. "Please do so, and I shall give you these treats."

He raises his left hand and the three boy's eyes sparkle at the huge plastic bag he brought with him. 

Taeyong carefully places the three large cups of coffee on one of the tables and laughs when Jaemin pretends to wipe away a tear at the sight. He bought cupcakes too, and he swears he can hear the roar of three stomachs when he takes them out of the box. 

"Thank you so much," beams Jeno with his mouth full, the corner of his warm eyes wrinkling.

"What would we do without you?" wonders Jaemin, "Starve to death, probably."

"Yeah, our leader doesn't buy us food."

"We have to beg for it."

"Hey, stop it!" explodes Mark, "I do take care of you two! Stop lying!"

"Please let them talk," says Taeyong in a solemn tone, making Mark arch his eyebrows in an expression of pure bewilderment as he understands that the older has teamed up against him. 

Jeno and Jaemin laugh loudly at Mark's face, especially at the way his eyes widen when the three of them bump fists so shamelessly right in front of him.

"You're all unbelievable," he sighs, admitting his defeat and gasping when Jaemin traps him in a tight hug.

Taeyong smiles softly, watching the three of them bickering with fond eyes. 

They really grew up well.

A while later their manager calls them to put on the mics and check their outfits and makeup one last time before going on stage, and Taeyong finds his way out of the dressing room —now empty and strangely quiet. 

As he wanders around the studio searching for a good seat to watch the performances he can't help but think that soon, very soon, he's going to be up on stage again. The thought thrills him. His vacation is finally coming to an end, and Taeyong couldn't be more grateful to his manager for giving him four whole weeks to rest. Sure, at first he didn't know what to do with that much free time in his hands, but he eventually understood that he didn't need to do anything. He could just sit around doing nothing. Or lie down and stare at the ceiling. Or sleep without setting an alarm the night before.

He had time to visit his parents and was even able to stay a few days at their house after a year without having seen them more than a few hours every three or four months, for example. His mother was especially excited, and his father even redecorated his old room a bit and bought new sheets for his bed. Taeyong hadn't been aware until that moment of how much he had missed having dinner with his parents and chatting over dessert.

He also spent an entire week cleaning and redecorating his own apartment; he had to take a couple of allergy pills in the process and spend at least half an hour in the shower to shake off the feeling of dirt off him, but he managed it. It was a fun process, though. Once the whole house was practically shining and not a speck of dust could be seen anywhere, he bought a couple of plants more and a large climbing plant that he hanged from the ceiling by the huge window. He also bought a few scented candles, a lava lamp for the living and new and nicer curtains. 

Now, the bedroom was a whole issue. 

Taeyong was fine until he had to face his closet. He knew that he should select the clothes he actually wore and take out the rest, but every time he came across some eccentric garment that he had bought on impulse he couldn't help but think _"but what if I get invited to a thematic party and..."_

That kind of thing.

So yeah, the wardrobe took him two whole days.

Not to mention that, under several shoe boxes stacked messily, there was the box where Taeyong used to store random but important things. That took him a whole afternoon. There were photos of his family, of his friends from school, of Yuta, Jaehyun and Doyoung, of the guys from DMD, of himself in Japan when he did his first tour, of Ten. There were also movie tickets, souvenirs from a few countries, letters from Ten, cute cards for his birthday, etc. 

He decided to keep everything, but he made a little exception for the things related to Ten. He couldn't throw away his letters or his photos, but there was no point in keeping, for example, the movie tickets. Or the receipts from that little coffee shop they used to go. Or the plane tickets to Thailand.

He felt good once he was done. Like sad-good, but that was to be expected.

Now it's been a month since Taeyong met Ten again, and he hasn't heard of him since the time they went for coffee and tried to have an honest talk. He's not even sure if Ten is still in Korea. 

Not that it'd change anything.

Around him, people start cheering as the MCs introduce themselves and recite the lineup.

Unsurprisingly, DMD performs at the very end of the show, but Taeyong was already expecting it. He entertains himself by watching the rest of the groups, some of which are debuting that week. Some of them are really good, and some of them aren't. He just hopes they don't give up. 

When Taeyong catches a glimpse of Jeno's blue hair he smiles and leans forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees and limiting his focus to the stage. 

The new song is fresh and quite catchy, only to drop to a heavy and slow-paced bass for the chorus. Even though the three of them are rappers —and that's always been DMD's main feature—, this time Jeno and Jaemin vocalize in a low tone for the bridge while Mark goes off with a fast rap on top of them. It's something they'd never done before, and Taeyong has to admit the style really suits them. The choreo it's really simple until the bridge, too, but then the backup dancers make an appearance behind the trio and perform a dance break with a lot of popping and isolation. It truly is an amazing stage to watch. 

It ends too quickly for Taeyong's liking, who stands up to clap along with the rest of the fans. The crowd is thrilled, cheering and shouting the member's names, and being able to feel their excitement spreads something warm across Taeyong's chest when the three boys wave at the public. 

Then he hurries and meets them a while later backstage, promising to wait until they change clothes and to take them out for dinner once they're done.

  
The hallway is packed with idols taking selfies and socializing with members of other groups, and the atmosphere feels much more relaxed than when Taeyong arrived, probably because they finally shook the pressure off them now that the broadcast finally came to an end. A few of them approach him to say hi and ask him for feedback, but by the time Mark, Jaemin and Jeno find him he's bored to death. 

"Hyuck and Jisung are talking with the manager, but...," says Mark, but shrugs when the pair shows up at the end of the hall. "Nevermind, they're coming."

"It came out pretty well, right?" smiles Jaemin, sipping from a new cup of coffee that Taeyong has no idea where it came from. "What do you think, hyung?"

"It was awesome! Probably the best stage you've ever done."

Jeno tries to warn him, but he's not fast enough. Before Taeyong can even notice Jaemin has thrown both of his arms around the older's shoulders, and the next second he jumps, tangling his long legs around the other man's middle, resulting on a forced piggyback ride. Mark laughs and Jeno takes Jaemin's bag from him so Taeyong doesn't have to carry the extra weight as the four of them (well, three) walk to the exit door. Hyuck and Jisung catch up with them just as Mark opens the door, giggling and bumping fists in a tiny celebration for the good performance.

Taeyong jumps a little a couple of times to better accommodate Jaemin on his back as they head to a near hot pot restaurant, shaking his head no when the younger tells him that it was a joke and he can walk. Quite frankly, Taeyong loves Jaemin's random displays of affection. They're rare and unusual, so he's more than happy to play along. Especially today.

Hyuck is telling them about a new choreography he has in mind when they arrive to the restaurant, the place warm, welcoming and softly illuminated. They manage to find an empty table at the back. They have to squeeze in a bit as the table is for four people, not six, but they manage.

"I asked Shotaro to come too," comments Jisung, taking off his jacket and folding it over his lap, "but he said something about having a test tomorrow morning."

"He's still in high school?" asks Taeyong, confused.

"Nope. He's doing a preparatory course for uni, I think."

"Art major," comments Mark, checking the menu. "He wanted to start this year, but he prefered to prepare a little more. Besides, he doesn't know if he'll be able to continue working as our backup dancer once college strikes."

Jeno nods, "He wanted to work with us this year, so."

Taeyong hums. He never saw himself in college. Since he was a boy he always knew that he wanted to be a singer and aspired to lead the same lifestyle as the idols he saw on tv, so the thought of never crossed his mind. Now, however, he's curious about the whole college life. Maybe he could pursue an art career, too? Maybe he could study to be a producer? 

That would be good.

"Hey, Injunnie texted me!" exclaims Jaemin excitedly, showing his phone screen with a wide smile. Taeyong arches an eyebrow. "He says that he watched the broadcast and that we were amazing!"

"Injunnie? Who's Injunnie?"

Hyuck sighs dramatically and Jisung and Mark giggle, amused at how Jeno looks at Jaemin with his eyes squinted as if he's suspecting something. 

"Huang Renjun. He's one of the few Chinese idols that get to perform in our music shows, so I'm sure you know him. Jaemin calls him Injunnie because, and I quote," explains Hyuck, bending his fingers a few times to draw quotes in the air, " _he's tiny and therefore he needs a matching tiny name_."

Jisung fake gags and Mark hits him in the shoulder, laughing hysterically at Taeyong's dumbfounded expression. He looks at Jaemin who's oblivious to the whole conversation, still glued to his phone with the happiest face, and then back at Hyuck who seems the most done Taeyong has ever seen him in years, and then back at Jaemin.

"Jaemin, son," says Taeyong, reaching for the younger's hand, and Mark and Jisung have to press their hands against their mouths to muffle their laughs at the elder's concerned, almost paternalistic tone. "You know you can talk to me, right?"

Jaemin looks up at him, confused, reaching for his unfinished cup of iced coffee.

"About what?"

"Your Injunnie."

Jaemin chokes on his coffee and the whole table bursts out laughing, the whole scene too bizarre to hold it back anymore. Jeno pats his friend in the back to help him breathe, but he's as amused as the others. 

"You do give him heart eyes whenever you see him," comments Jeno, dismissing the incredulous look Jaemin gives him with a shrug. "I know you didn't notice, but we did."

"And it's disgusting," seconds Hyuck, faking a shiver.

"I don't give him heart eyes!"

Mark nods solemnly.

"Yes, you do."

"I don't? I just admire and respect him!", says Jaemin as if it's the most obvious thing. "He's an amazing singer and I really like his songs, and he's really good at dancing too, but like, he's not just talented but also super hardworking? And on top of that he's... he's like a ball of sunshine, and..."

"Oh boy", mutters Taeyong, shaking his head in disbelief and trying to hide the fact that he's putting on this whole show just to tease him. "Do you even hear yourself?"

Jaemin blinks and the tips of his ears turn red as the realisation hits him. Jeno laughs when he doesn't say anything to defend himself, throwing an arm over his shoulders and giving him a reassuring half-hug.

After that they order and not even fifteen minutes later an old lady places six large bowls in front of them, along with side dishes, bread and drinks. They make a toast to celebrate DMD's comeback, and they spend the rest of the evening eating and chatting about whatever topic arises.

Just when they're considering having dessert, Taeyong's phone rings once and when he checks his inbox, he sees that there's a message from Xiaojun. They've been texting from time to time for the past month, not to discuss the collaboration they have to work on but mostly to get to know each other. After all, in the next few weeks they're going to spend hours and hours together, almost every single day. 

Apparently, Xiaojun wants to meet him on Tuesday to talk about the song; which producers can they work with, what concept to use, where to rehearse, etc. Taeyong types a quick "ok" and a while later he receives a text with the time and place.

Sliding his phone back inside his pocket, Taeyong smiles.

Back to work. Finally.

On Tuesday, Taeyong goes to the building of the company Xiaojun works for and is somewhat impressed by how big it is. He gets lost easily and even asks for directions a couple of times before he can finally find the cafeteria. Xiaojun is there waiting for him, and he greets him with a big smile.

For the next two hours or so, they go through every aspect to consider. They decide they want to make an R&B song since the style could perfectly match both Xiaojun's and Taeyong's skills and styles, but they have no idea of what to do for the music video.

"Is it even necessary?" wonders Taeyong, finishing his second cup of tea and grabbing a muffin to soothe the anxiety that produces him having been talking about the topic for a long time and still not having reached an agreement. "I mean, I don't even know what our budget is. As far as I know, the agreement our companies made is for a digital single, not for an mv."

Xiaojun shrugs.

"I don't know about your company, but I have quite a bit of artistic freedom here. It doesn't mean I can do whatever I want, that's not how it works," he explains, taking a bite of cake, "but as long as I don't ask for something completely over the top and prove it's a reasonable request..."

Taeyong hums.

"Okay, then. To be honest a music video would be good for me too, with the upcoming comeback and everything."

"Damn. You're already preparing for your next comeback?"

"In three months or so."

In the end, it takes three more days of negotiation between the two companies until they reach an agreement that includes an mv. Both Taeyong and Xiaojun are called to the final meeting, and unsurprisingly, it's just as all the other meetings Taeyong has been invited to.

Boring.

That is, until someone calls the CFO to sign a couple of documents. Taeyong was expecting some middle-aged man in a plain grey suit, and that's exactly why he almost chokes on air when the conference room door opens and Doyoung walks in, visibly annoyed at something. He doesn't pay much attention to his surroundings, but as if he had a magnet or something, his eyes meet Taeyong's. 

"What are you doing here?", he whines, going through the neatly folded papers. "This is my workplace, get out."

"Hey! I'm working too, you know?"

Doyoung looks up at him in surprise, his mouth shaped in a perfect "o".

"Don't tell me..."

"Yup yup," sings Taeyong, amused at the panicked expression of his best friend.

"You're working here? Who hired you?"

"No one, dumbass. I'm working on a collab with Xiao."

"Didn't know you knew each other," mutters the Chinese man, giving Taeyong an inquisitory look. 

"Oh, I see. You're gonna use this building to record and practice or...?"

"Probably," Xiaojun nods, "because it's closer to Taeyong's house than the other company's building, so."

Doyoung snorts, double-checking the documents and putting them back in the folder before taking off his glasses.

"I hope you know what this means."

"What this means?" repeats Taeyong, arching an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

Doyoung can't even open his mouth to reply when someone knocks and a " _sweetheaaaart_ " can be heard from the other side of the door. Taeyong snorts, understanding that whatever that person is, they're talking to him. 

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear," mutters Doyoung, rolling his eyes. "Go away, Satan!"

"Who is it?" asks Taeyong, amused. "You didn't tell me you had a sweetheart."

"I don't know him."

"It's our CEO," comments Xiaojun, smiling at the annoyed expression painted all over Doyoung's face as the other person keeps knocking on the door. "If I were you, I'd open the door."

"Your CEO?" Taeyong frowns, something itching at the back of his mind, until realisation hits him like a truck. "Oh. Don't tell me."

But then the door opens and Ten pokes his head into the conference room, smiling and with a glint of mischief in his eyes, and Taeyong wishes the ground to open up and swallow him whole. 

"Darling, why didn't you pick up the phone?" asks Ten sweetly. Anyone could hear him and think that he was really worried about a loved one, but his devilish smile gives him away.

"Please behave," requests Doyoung, sliding his glasses into his pocket, "I'm begging you."

"You beg now?" asks Ten, raising his eyebrows. "Kinky."

"TEN."

The Thai laughs, turning away to leave, and that's when he notices Xiaojun's and Taeyong's presence. He stops in his tracks for a second that seems to drag on for hours, his playful expression changing to a wary one and his eyes daggering into Taeyong's. He's attracted to the older's irises like they're fucking magnets. Yet that's it, a second, and then he manages to mend his smile and soften his gaze as if nothing had happened.

" _Xiao, hello,_ " he greets in mandarin, bowing his head slightly, " _how was your vacation?_ "

" _Good, good. I went to my parents' house and stayed there for the whole two weeks. It was refreshing, but I missed work._ "

" _Hey, take a break_ ," says Ten in a serious, scolding tone, and Taeyong wonders what the hell are they talking about. He's even more confused as Xiaojun laughs at the CEO, who gives the Chinese man the softest smile.

" _I did, I did. You too, you should rest._ "

" _I'll sleep when I'm dead._ " 

Xiaojun rolls his eyes and drops the subject but Doyoung seems ready to kill Ten, who now turns to Taeyong and nods at him. 

"Hi, Taeyong. It's a pleasure having you here."

"Yeah, um. I mean, thanks."

With that, the Thai flashes him a smile, winks at Doyoung and walks off the conference room without saying any other word.

"HEY!" calls Doyoung, utterly irked, "Why were you looking for me?"

"Cause I missed you!", Ten shouts from the hallway. "Please come home tonight, the kids miss you too!"

Taeyong has to suppress the need to laugh when he sees his friend's face.

"One day," Doyoung whispers, his eyes empty of all emotion, "one day I will kill him with my own hands."

Taeyong saw Ten one more time the following week when he suddenly made an appearance in the middle of a meeting with both company's producers. He told them that Kun would be flying to Korea in the next few days and that he was interested in working with them, so it was basically up to both Taeyong and Xiaojun to accept or decline the offer.

Taeyong, of course, as the ultimate sucker for Kun's work that he is, immediately turned to Xiaojun and gave him his best puppy eyes in hopes that the other would oblige and say yes. It wasn't necessary the effort, though, because Xiaojun had already worked with Kun and was dying to work with him again. 

So they said yes, naturally. Ten seemed pleased, but Doyoung shot him a look that Taeyong couldn't decipher. 

And, well, Taeyong knew he shouldn't even think about Ten, but his curiosity won and once the meeting was over, he rushed to Doyoung to ask him what the hell was doing Ten in that insignificant meeting if he was the CEO of CEOs. The big boss. That kind of thing.

"Big boss?", had asked Doyoung, amused, "please don't let Ten hear that nickname. Ever."

But he didn't say much more than that, so Taeyong had assumed it was some private business thing and didn't pry further into the matter. He couldn't help himself, however, and Doyoung had to listen to him for a solid five minutes talking about what an amazing producer Kun is and how excited he was to have the chance to work with him, until a comment made him shut up:

"Let's see if you're so excited to have Kun around once he gets here."

"What do you mean? Is he difficult to work with?" had asked Taeyong, but then he remembered the glance Doyoung had shot in Ten's direction a while before. "Or is it about Ten?"

"He's excellent at work. You'll never find someone more reliable than him", was Doyoung's answer.

"So it _is_ about Ten. What's the matter?" Taeyong was growing more and more confused with each second passing. "Is he Ten's boyfriend or something?"

Doyoung gave him a crooked smile, and Taeyong understood the implications of what he had just said before the younger man could even open his mouth.

"Why would Kun being Ten's boyfriend bother you, huh?"

Taeyong didn't respond.

But now, fifteen minutes before meeting Kun for the first time, he's starting to think that he really should've said something. Not only because Doyoung took his silence as a victory, but because of the comment he made later when he realized that he wasn't defending himself: _"Your subconscious has betrayed you."_

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Like, sure, he understands what _Doyoung_ meant by that, but he's not sure of what his _subconscious_ meant by pushing him to ask if Kun was Ten's boyfriend. If it even meant something. It bothers him because he's starting to feel again the slight itching at the back of his mind, and he doesn't even know why. He got the closure he wanted, and though this time felt more real than when Ten started ghosting him six years ago and he felt the same old pain all over again, this time he's sure he's healing in the right way and not just throwing everything under the carpet.

But that conversation annoys him. It's been bugging him the whole week. That, and the way Doyoung looked at him as if he knew something Taeyong didn't. 

And Taeyong is too proud to ask him.

Sighing, he crosses the huge glass doors of the company and walks to the elevator. For the past week, he's been visiting Xiaojun and wandering around the building to get used to its many hallways and identical doors so he doesn't get lost again, and he feels somewhat proud when he finds the recording room he was looking for. 

He's about to knock when the door flies open and Xiaojun greets him with a smile.

"Hey, Taeyong! Come in, come in."

Taeyong walks in and it's pretty much the same as always; he supposes that every recording studio in the world must look like this: like every recording studio he's been at.

"Hi", says Kun, standing up from his chair where he'd been scrolling on his phone nonstop, smiling politely and extending his right hand towards Taeyong. "I'm Kun, the producer. I've heard a lot about you."

"Hi, I'm Lee Taeyong," he smiles back, shaking hands, "I've heard a lot about you too. I'm looking forward to working with you."

"Xiao told me you've already talked about the concept and the genre, right?" asks Kun, gesturing them to take a seat on the couch against one of the walls. "R&B?"

"Yeah. Ten told me you have a demo we could use?"

Kun nods. 

"I have a few, but I'm afraid it's all on the laptop I left in the car", he says, sighing dramatically. He eyes the door for a moment as if contemplating whether to go or not, but he finally stands up again. "I'll be back in five minutes, okay?"

Taeyong hums, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding once Kun shuts the door behind him. A slow smile starts to form in his lips. Is it really happening? He's going to work with Kun? The Kun? 

Xiaojun small talks with him until the producer comes back, this time accompanied. 

Of course. 

Ten.

Taeyong hears the Thai's voice before even properly see him, and he tries not to, but he ends up thinking again about the conversation with Doyoung for the nth time. The thought bothers him and it probably shows, because Xiaojun arches a brow at him as Kun enters the studio, hugging a small blue laptop against his chest. 

"I swear, I told you like a week ago," Kun says, turning on the device as he sits in front of the console, "it's not my fault if you didn't listen to me."

The door clicks behind Ten as he walks in, frowning. He's wearing simple black pants and a beige plain shirt, no tie, no bow, no blazer. With the AC on and considering how sensitive Ten used to be to cold weather, Taeyong wonders how he's not freezing. He dismisses the thought as soon as it pops in his head, though, reminding himself that it's not of his business.

"Hey, Dejun, Taeyong", greets the CEO, clasping his hands in front of his chest and bowing slightly, "how are you two doing?"

"Fine, thank you."

Taeyong considers giving him a short answer like Xiaojun, but he decides against it. 

"I'm great. I actually wanted to thank you for this opportunity, really. It means a lot to me," he says, smiling. 

Ten seems slightly surprised by the sudden confession, but he smiles back.

"Please do let me know if you need anything."

"We will," assures Xiaojun, smiling, and with that, Ten turns to Kun to resume their conversation.

Well, that went well.

"Are you sure you told me?" asks Ten, resting his elbows on the back of Kun's chair and leaning over his shoulder. "Cause if you did then I'm 99% sure I booked a room for him."

"What about the other 1%?" jokes Kun, turning slightly towards him, "Will that 1% make him homeless?"

"I'm serious", whines the younger, suddenly straightening his back and ready to argue, but he stumbles and Kun has to catch him by the arm to prevent him for falling. The Thai continues speaking as if nothing happened, and Taeyong frowns. "When is he arriving?"

"Please sit down" asks Kun, nodding briefly at Xiaojun when he pushes a chair towards them. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, fine, fine. What time is he arriving?"

"Ten..."

"Don't."

Kun sighs.

"In two hours. He texted me a while ago to let me know that the plane was about to take off."

"Two hours?" Ten seems to be counting something with his fingers, widening his eyes and cursing under his breath when he finishes. "I can't pick him up. I have a meeting with the board."

Kun facepalms at that.

"Yeah, and I have to cover something for Doyoung since he's gonna be with you at that meeting."

"Is Sicheng coming?" asks Xiaojun then, curious. 

Sicheng. Sicheng... Why does the name sound familiar to Taeyong?

"Yeah. At this rate I just hope he doesn't get lost or something," half jokes Ten, sighing. 

"I can pick him up," offers Xiaojun, and Ten tilts his head at that, squinting his eyes. "I mean, I'd have to skip a couple of hours of practice, but..."

"Then that's a no." The CEO gets up and glances at Taeyong, who's been awfully quiet during the whole exchange. "I'm sorry for the personal talk, by the way. It's just that a friend is coming over from China and I apparently forgot about it." He chuckles. "It won't happen again."

"Don't worry about it," says Taeyong light-heartedly, but the truth is he feels extremely awkward talking to Ten like that. It feels stiff and weird and... "Has he come to Korea before?"

"Nope, it's his first time here," comments Kun, eyes glued to the monitor's screen. "Hope he likes it."

Taeyong thinks about that time he went to Thailand and about how lost he felt once he arrived at Bangkok airport. If Ten hadn't waited for him there, Taeyong has no idea how he'd have found his friend to begin with. He understands the situation. 

And there he goes, breaking his own rules again. At least this time is not for his or Ten's sake, it's just him helping someone.

Right?

"I can pick him up," offers Taeyong, "I have a car and I don't have practice until 6 PM."

Ten blinks a few times.

"You sure?" asks Kun, "You don't have to, you know."

"Yeah, I know, don't worry."

"Okay, then. Give me a minute and I'll text you the details."

Taeyong nods, but Ten shakes his head.

"No, Taeyong, it's not necessary," he says, unlocking his phone and tapping on the screen. "I'll call him a cab."

"Does he even speak korean?"

"I..." Ten's eyes wander around the room, trying to find the correct answer. It's just then that Taeyong notices the dark circles behind them. "He doesn't, but if I..."

"Then I'll go. I don't mind, really."

"You don't have to," tries to reason Ten, but Taeyong shrugs.

"I told you, I know. I have the time and I want to help y'all, is it that bad?"

Ten studies him for a bit, and then he opens the chat and starts recording a voice note in mandarin. Taeyong has no idea of what he's saying, but curiosity starts to kill him when he hears his name. Not for the mention of his name per se —if Ten was letting his friend know that a stranger was going to pick him up at the airport, the least he could do was telling him what his name is—, but for the reactions of the two Chinese speakers in the studio: Xiaojun raises his eyebrows and looks at Taeyong with an unreadable expression, and Kun scoffs and rolls his eyes.

Ten wouldn't say something bad about him, right? Not when he offered to help.

Before he can get paranoid, he quietly asks Kun for the details of the flight and collects his things. He whispers a "see you later" before leaving, not wanting to interrupt Ten who's still recording, and closes the door behind him.

A while later and as Taeyong walks out of the building and towards the parking lot, his phone buzzes.

"Hello?"

"Taeyong, it's Ten. Look up."

Taeyong stops abruptly, mildly confused, and looks up at the building. Behind the glass of one of the windows of what must be a conference room, Ten is waving at him. Once he's sure he has the older's attention, he smiles slightly and mouths a silent "thank you", which makes Taeyong laugh.

"You do know that since we're talking over the phone you could've just said it out loud, right?"

Ten laughs, and though Taeyong can't see him in detail, he's sure that the younger is scrunching his nose. They stare at each other for a brief moment in silence, listening to each other's breath over the phone, and Taeyong swears he can't even remember what was he doing a minute ago. Taeyong knows it's weird, but it's as if an invisible force is trying to push him towards Ten, inviting him to orbit around the Thai man.

It's Ten the one who looks away first, muttering a soft _"thank you again"_ before hanging up and turning his back to the window, probably going to attend some meeting. 

Taeyong smiles.

"You're welcome."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! 
> 
> This one took me a while because I was out the whole week, but I somehow made it work. Please leave a comment if you feel like it, I really appreciate feedback!
> 
> Have a great week! :)


	7. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten's voice cuts through the thick air, reaching for him, light and soft like a feather.
> 
> "Hi, Taeyong."
> 
> It's gentle and kind, but Taeyong finds it brutal in its tenderness.

Taeyong has no idea what the hell is going on in his life.

At all. 

A month has passed since the time he volunteered to pick up Kun and Ten's friend at the airport. The ride was enjoyable, and Sicheng turned out to be a friendly and kind person, trying to carry on a conversation with Taeyong by mixing the few Korean words he knew, adding Chinese expressions that he considered to be easy to understand and a few sentences in broken English. As soon as Taeyong saw him, he knew where he had heard his name before: Sicheng was Jaehyun's roommate when the latter went to China as an exchange student for a semester, about two or three years ago. 

Taeyong found it funny. What were the chances?

The next day he got back to the practice rooms and to the vocal training classes. He had to diet a week or two, too, because he'd been eating way too much garbage and he felt like he couldn't move a single muscle when his choreographer put him to work. Not that he regretted anything. But that was the usual part of the work. Those were the things that Taeyong was used to: the long days of practice, of dancing, of recording.

But then two major things happened: Kun and Ten. 

First of all, and this still feels like a fever dream, Kun offered to give him a hand with his upcoming mini-album once they were done with the collab song with Xiaojun —which turned out great—, and Taeyong had to ask him to repeat what he'd just said because he thought his ears were deceiving him. But no; he found himself going to the company Kun worked for almost every day at evening, and the produced would listen to whatever Taeyong had been working on that day and suggest to him ways to improve it. 

To say that Taeyong was impressed by Kun's skills and knowledge about music was an understatement. Sure, he knew he was a great producer, but he never imagined that he was this easy and comfortable to work with him, too. He was a genius, adding little pauses and sounds here and there, creating atmospheres that Taeyong could have never even dreamt to hear in one of his own songs. Now, two months later and walking into June, the mini-album was officially finished and Taeyong couldn't be more proud of their work. 

You'd think that out of the two things that couldn't be labelled as "normal" in his everyday life as an idol, that's the huge one; being able to work with someone he admired and to record a great bunch of songs.

Well, nope. 

The huge thing is, of course, Ten. 

And Taeyong feels kind of dumb, and confused, and happy, and confused again, and a little dumber every time he thinks about it. He'd kick himself in the ass if he a) physically could, and b) had a somewhat plush ass to soften the impact. Which he hasn't. And it doesn't matter anyway, because he can't kick himself in the ass even if he wants to.

See? He's spiralling again. He's been doing this for the last months whatsoever.

The thing is, since he had to visit Kun at his company's building, the chances of bumping into Ten increased exponentially. It didn't happen the first two weeks or so, though, but just when Taeyong had learned to relish on the false feeling of security, things went south. One day he stepped into the recording studio and boom, Ten was there. Taeyong had a comical moment of panic in which he seriously considered running away to avoid confrontation and, above all, awkwardness, but decided against it as soon as Ten flashed him a smile and asked about his day. Just like that. No weird silences. No doubts. No dramatic half-sentences mixing with the wind. 

Taeyong didn't know what was worse: if the actual reality unravelling before his eyes or the apocalyptic scenario he'd made up in his head. 

It scared him later that same night, how natural the whole conversation with Ten felt. The younger had asked him about his album, the collab with Xiaojun and in the end, he'd wished him a great weekend and walked out of the studio like it was nothing. Like nothing had happened between them, like that agreement they'd set that day at the coffee house never existed in the first place. It left Taeyong confused, and even more so because he didn't understand why the hell he was confused in the first place. If that even makes sense. 

Strangers could small talk, right? Taeyong was working with one of Ten's employees, after all. It was a normal exchange between people working together. Kind of. 

A week later, Taeyong walked into a large cup of latte with whipped cream on top with his name written on the plastic lid beside the usual boba tea Kun used to drink. He beamed, a little shy, and thanked Kun for buying him coffee, even going as far as telling him that it was one of his favourite drinks. Kun had laughed quietly. 

"I never buy myself tea", he explained, "it's always Ten who does it for me. He dropped by five minutes ago."

So Ten had bought Taeyong coffee. 

Taeyong was getting a headache.

Another day, it was pouring down and they were going home when Ten noticed Taeyong hadn't brought an umbrella with him. So naturally, as any polite stranger Taeyong knows, he offered to walk him to the car under his own umbrella so the older wouldn't get wet.

Eventually, Taeyong gives up. Or at least that's what he says to himself: that he's given up on Ten and his strange demeanours, and that he doesn't care, and that the younger surely does everything he does out of politeness and selflessness. Taeyong has long given up on Ten, so he shouldn't be trying to read between lines.

It's not that Taeyong sees Ten every day, either. Far from it. It's been two months since he started working with Kun, and in those two months, he'd seen the young CEO ten times at most. Somedays he would spend almost an hour in the studio with them, chatting and making jokes, but those are rare. Ten usually stops by for less than a minute, enough to say hi and give them their drinks, and then he runs off to his office. 

And every damn time Taeyong sighs once Ten leaves. 

What a pain in the ass.

Taeyong shrugs as if dismissing his own train of thought, trying to get rid of the well-known itch at the back of his mind. It's starting to rain when he stops the car in front of Ten's company building, and a cold breeze brushes the hair out of his face when he hops out. He hurries inside, choosing to take the stairs instead of the elevator to warm up a little. It's strange that it's this cold in June, but at least Taeyong remembered to check the weather forecast before going out that morning and he has an umbrella with him. 

His breath is a little raged when he reaches Kun's studio door, opening it and stepping inside with a big smile.

"Hey, Kun! What's up?"

"Hey, Taeyong! You made it just in time," he comments, pointing at the window with a pen. "The rain is turning into a full-blown storm."

A shiver runs down Taeyong's spine at the sound of thunder. 

"A miracle. So, what did you call me for?" he asks, plopping down on the sofa. "Since we've already finished working on the album..."

"Oh! That." Kun smiles brightly, spinning on his chair like a kid. "Remember that track you discarded because you couldn't write lyrics that fit?" When Taeyong hums, the producer turns to the computer and taps on the keyboard a couple of times. "Well, I managed to get something out of it."

"You what? How...?" Taeyong shuts when a familiar melody fills the studio, and his eyes widen. "Is that an intro?"

"Yup! And I made an interlude and an outro too, if you want to use them." Kun beams fondly at Taeyong's shining eyes. "It's a small gift for you."

"It's amazing," mutters the older, "if I wouldn't have known the original demo I'd probably assume they're all different pieces of work."

Kun straightens his back a little, clearly taking some pride on Taeyong's reaction.

"I'm glad you like it. As I said, it's a little gift. You've worked hard, Taeyong," he says, honest, "and it's been a pleasure to work with you."

"It's been a pleasure for me too. The album is amazing, and it's all thanks to you, so... thank you. I couldn't have done it without you."

"Nah, you could've. Okay," the producer claps his hands together, scanning through the room, "wanna order something for breakfast? I'm starving."

"No boba tea this time?" asks Taeyong casually, trying to sound as uninterested as he'd want to be. Fortunately, Kun seems too distracted with the monitor again to catch up on Taeyong's voice tone and hums along. "Want something to eat too?"

"A mooncake would be good."

Taeyong hums, scrolling through his phone. He opens the delivery app and adds a boba tea, a vanilla latte with extra sugar and two mooncakes to the cart. He's about to click on the ok button to confirm the order when a thought pops into his mind leaves him hesitating, his finger suspended in the air over the screen.

After a long minute of heavy thinking and a lot of chewing the inside of his cheeks, Taeyong dares to speak up.

"Is Ten on the building?"

"Yeah, I think so. Why do you ask?"

"Hm, it's nothing."

Taeyong sighs. He adds a large iced americano to the cart and confirms the order, already regretting his life decisions.

A while later, when the delivery guy arrives hugging a paper bag against his chest, Taeyong sends a quick text to Doyoung asking him if he knows where Ten is and, as a second thought, telling him what he just did and asking if he thinks it's a bad idea. Doyoung answers with a floor number and indications to find a conference room. He assures him that it's not a bad idea, too, so Taeyong inhales deeply and gets out of the studio.

It takes him a while to find the room Doyoung told him to go, but he manages. It's a wooden door at the end of a wide hallway, and Taeyong knocks three times. He feels on edge for some reason, and gets startled when Ten's voice moulds into a "come in" from the other side of the door.

Taeyong doesn't know what he expected, but it was certainly not this.

There's a large glass table in the centre of the room, and at least thirty chairs around it. There are documents everywhere, too, and a couple (a lot) of empty cups of coffee and half-emptied bottles of water alongside a few papers wrinkled into tiny balls. But there's no such thing as a meeting happening there, and the room is empty except for two people chuckling tiredly, sitting on the opposite side of the table.

Taeyong locks eyes with Doyoung first, who grins mischievously and opens his mouth to speak.

That bastard.

"Taeyong, hi, what brings you here?" asks Doyoung innocently, his shit-eating grin accentuating as the older shoots him a death glare. 

Ten tilts his head with curiosity, and Taeyong is suddenly distracted from his death wishes. He has dark circles under his eyes and his hair is a little messy, probably from running his hands through it, but he smiles at him like he has all the time in the world.

Taeyong clears his throat.

"I bought breakfast for Kun and me, and I thought you could use some caffeine," he explains, lifting the cup in his hand and avoiding Doyoung's gaze to prevent his voice to sound awkward. "Consider it a repayment for all the times you did the same for me."

Ten's eyes glint with something Taeyong can't quite read, but Doyoung interrupts before he can even open his mouth.

"And you didn't bring me anything?" asks his best friend, crossing his arms. Taeyong glances at him, pissed off, and Doyoung has to suppress the urge to laugh. He knows damn well what he's doing. He's blatantly exposing him. Why would Taeyong buy something for Ten but not for him, his best...? "I'm your best friend!"

Yeah. Exactly.

"You're a pain in the ass, that's why," says Taeyong nonchalantly, approaching them and placing the cup of coffee right in front of Ten, over the glass table. The Thai smiles, removing the lid and humming in approval when he sees it's an iced americano.

"And Ten is not?"

Taeyong is ready to answer a quick "no", but he feels a tingle of panic as he understands that, even if Doyoung is simply playing around, Taeyong shouldn't be. So he decides to ignore the question, even though he's not sure if that's the right course of action. 

He's not even sure what he pretended by buying Ten coffee. If he even pretended something in the first place.

Taeyong glances at Ten, who's sipping happily from his coffee while going through some documents and completely oblivious to the internal turmoil the older feels growing stronger each passing day. His straight eyelashes flicker from time to time, painting light shadows over his —now slightly coloured, thanks to the coffee— cheeks.

"Anyway, have a good day, you two," Taeyong finally says, turning his back on them and waving as he walks to the door. "I'll order some coffee for you, Doie. I'll text you when it comes."

"Nah, you know I'm not a big fan of coffee." Taeyong rolls his eyes. "But thanks."

"Taeyong!"

He turns on his heels, hand in the knob, and raises an eyebrow at the slight smile Ten is giving him.

"Thank you."

"It's nothing."

Taeyong exits the conference room and closes the door behind him, but he stays glued to the floor for a while. There's no dramatic scene where he slides against the door until he's sitting on the floor or whatsoever, but... he feels like he can't move. He doesn't want to. He doesn't want to go back in, either. 

Sighing, Taeyong makes his way back to Kun's studio.

As he's going to be busy as hell for the next month, he decides to spend the rest of the day there. Kun asks him about the concept for his comeback and fishes for details about the music video, and in return, Taeyong asks him about his current projects. Turns out the producer is working on a full-length album just for fun, and even lets Taeyong listen to some of the demos. A while later they order Chinese for lunch, listen to the mini-album they've been working on and chat a little about everything.

It's nice, and Taeyong doesn't even notice that it's getting late until Kun gets up and asks him if he has plans for that night. 

"Is it almost eight already?" Taeyong asks, surprised, checking the time on his phone. "No, I was going home. Why? Wanna go for drinks?"

"Yeah, we should celebrate! There's a nice place a few blocks from here."

Taeyong hums.

"Can I ask Doyoung to come?"

"Sure!"

Taeyong watches as Kun throws his notebook and a few more things into his backpack, turning off the computers and unplugging his personal laptop from the mixer console. He opens Doyoung's chat and types a few texts.

|19.45| **ME:** hey Doie

|19.45| **ME:** you up for drinks?

Just as he's sliding his phone back into his pocket, it buzzes with a new message.

|19.46| **DOYOUNG:** Sure

|19.46| **DOYOUNG:** I could use some food + alcohol right now

|19.46| **DOYOUNG:** meet you in the hall in fifteen

Taeyong chuckles under his breath. He starts typing a new text and then deletes it. And then he types it again. And then he deletes it. Maybe he should rephrase it? Use other words? No, that's not the problem. 

Taeyong makes a face when he taps the screen to send the message, but he doesn't regret it. 

|19.48| **ME:** ask Ten if he wants to come as well

Courtesy. Politeness. That's all. Taeyong knows his friend has been working with Ten the whole day, so it would be rude not to invite him. 

Except that's a blatant lie, but Taeyong doesn't want to think about it.

"Hey, you ready to go?" asks Kun, eyeing the tiny piece of sky that he can see through the window as he fixes a black beanie over his hair. It's stopped raining, but there's still some dense clouds. 

"Yeah, let's go." 

Fifteen minutes later and after a few slightly awkward situations in which Kun ran into an acquaintance in the hallways and engaged in some small talk while Taeyong stood straight as a stick behind him not quite knowing what to do, they reach the principal door of the building. Right then, Doyoung steps out of the elevator and starts walking towards them, smiling. 

"Hey, Kun, I didn't see you today. How're you doing?"

"Oh, I came to work a little bit earlier than usual, that's why. Rough day, huh?" Kun arches an eyebrow at the younger, raking his figure up and down. 

"Terrible. We might have to make Chenle step to the front."

Kun lets out a sigh, but he smiles.

"We knew this could happen. Don't worry, he's ready."

"Yeah, I know he is, but Ten wants to preserve him as long as he can."

"I'm sorry," Taeyong interrupts, confused, "but who's Chenle?"

"Oh, right, you don't know him. He's my little brother," explains Kun, gesticulating to the principal door to get them moving. "He's the next CEO of our family company."

"Which is associated to Ten's company," adds Doyoung, sensing Taeyong's confusion despite Kun's explanation, "but Ten wants to wait until Chenle turns twenty-one before letting him take over."

Taeyong frowns.

"Why? Didn't he become the CEO at like... eighteen?"

Kun chuckles darkly, and Doyoung shoots him a knowing look.

"Yeah, and that's exactly why he doesn't want Chenle to go through the same."

Doyoung shoves open the door with his shoulder and keeps it that way to let them go first, but Taeyong doesn't move, shooting a look to the elevator. His best friend rolls his eyes.

"Don't pout, he's coming. He just had some extra paperwork to do. I'll send him our location once we get there." Doyoung looks at him with a mixture of impatience and amusement, still holding the door open. "Can we go now?"

Taeyong wants to tell him that he doesn't care and that he wasn't expecting Ten to come anyway but he knows Doyoung won't believe a word, and honestly, it's better that way.

Not only Taeyong wants Ten to come, but he needs it. He needs to see Ten out of a work environment to fully know if the younger is acting the way he's acting towards him out of politeness or if there's something else behind. 

To be completely honest with himself, Taeyong didn't know why he had pulled the let's-be-strangers card that day, two months ago. Of course, closure was necessary and at the moment he couldn't bear the thought of pretending like nothing ever happened between them, but now... now it's a completely different story. First of all, because Taeyong really expected Ten to give him the cold shoulder. And second, because he really thought that he himself would stick to his own rule.

Is he regretting the choice he made? Not quite. But he's also starting to think that he should have discussed it with Ten, instead of coldly throwing his decision to his face like it was nothing. 

Doyoung throws an arm over his shoulders, grinning, and taps his temple with a finger.

"There's smoke coming from your ears. Stop overthinking everything," he says softly, exhorting him to walk a little faster so they can catch up with Kun, who's walking a few meters in front of them. "It'll be fine."

"I feel like a teenager."

"A teenager with an undying crush?"

Taeyong's eyes grow wide.

"Who's got a crush on who?" he hisses, shoving his hands into his pockets, "Stop talking nonsense."

Doyoung scoffs.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Taeyong rolls his eyes, but lets it slip. He's immune to Doyoung's teasing at this point and, besides, he knows by heart that he doesn't mean any harm.

They catch up with Kun when he stops in front of a restaurant that is neither too small nor too large, with traditional lamps in warm colours hanging on either side of the door.   
"Shall we?" he says, smiling.

Inside, the atmosphere is cheerful and welcoming. It's pretty hot, too, and the temperature difference makes Taeyong take off his jacket as soon as he takes three steps into the place. Kun leads the way to an empty table as he small talks with Doyoung, and once Taeyong takes a seat he takes a good look around him.

There's a bunch of tables, some against the walls and a few occupying the centre of the place, partially hidden by beautifully carved wooden screens —probably to grant some sense of privacy to the customers. The walls are a pale shade of yellow, with some abstract paintings in black and white scattered here and there. A dozen of orange paper lamps hang from the dark ceiling, lending a subtle shine to the polished hardwood floor, probably worn out by the unknown amount of people coming and going for who knows how many years. There's also a soft tune playing in the background, something like jazz, and Taeyong hums in approval.

"Okay, done," says Doyoung, locking his phone and placing it over the table. "Ten says he'll be here in a few."

Taeyong straightens his back unconsciously.

"Didn't know Ten was coming. We could've waited for him," comments Kun, taking a good look at the menu. 

Doyoung shakes his head, "Nah, he didn't want us to. He had to send a few documents to the board."

Kun hums and looks up, trying to get the waitress' attention.

"Let's order now then, so the food is here by the time he arrives."

Taeyong remains silent as the producer talks to the waitress, ordering for both him and Ten without missing a beat, making sure the young woman remembers to add extra spice, to bring a special side dish, to cook the meat just right, and so on. 

It makes Taeyong's stomach churn for some reason.

"So," Kun clasps his hands together and beams widely, looking at Taeyong with complicity, "his mini-album is ready."

"You're kidding! Taeyong! Why didn't you tell me anything?" protests Doyoung, and he sounds so hurt that Taeyong has to laugh, amused by his friend's dramatic ass.

They fall into a comfortable space after that, chatting animatedly, bickering from time to time and exchanging little stories about the recording process and about how Ten is being a pain in the ass —courtesy of Doyoung, of course.

It's all laughs until someone hooks an arm around Doyoung's neck from behind and leans in, pressing their face against his.

"Heard you talking shit."

Taeyong shifts in his seat to face the stranger, his joyful mood dropping quickly, only to find a familiar face with a scrunched nose, apparently trying not to laugh. Doyoung's face quickly regains some of the colour that it had lost, now turning a deep shade of red as he recognises the voice.

"TEN, I SWEAR TO GOD—"

Ten lets him go, laughing unabashedly and dodging Doyoung's hand as the older tries to slap him in the arm. Kun doesn't seem affected, clearly used to the two men's antics, but Taeyong has to take a couple of deep breaths to steady his pulse.

"Why can't you say hi like a normal human being?!" is asking Doyoung, comically pissed off, "What is with the choking thing?"

"Why, did you like it?" asks Ten, grinning, as he sits next to Kun and facing the other two. Taeyong takes a sip of water when he feels the Thai's eyes on him.

"Keep your kink talk inside the bedroom," says Kun, scrolling through his phone, "please and thank you."

Doyoung snorts.

"As if you're one to talk."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Remember the time when I walked in you...?"

Ten sighs, defeated, but his amused smile tells Taeyong that he's not upset at all. He takes off his suit jacket as Kun and Doyoung keep fighting, rolling the shirt sleeves up to his elbows and undoing a couple of buttons under Taeyong's attentive glaze. Ten seems tired, but he doesn't have a heavy aura around him as Taeyong expected after hearing the comment about the board and how fussy they could get —on the contrary, the young CEO seems relaxed, smiling slightly as he takes his phone out of his pants pocket.

"Why are you turning it off?" asks Taeyong, curious. 

Ten glances at him, surprised. He knew that sooner or later he would end up talking to Taeyong that night —Hell, that's the only reason why he had agreed to meet them in the first place—, but he never expected the older to talk to him first. 

"I don't want any distractions tonight."

Their eyes lock. Taeyong wants to say something, but his mind is having trouble to come up with a single retort and the words die in his mouth, which goes pathetically dry as the younger's gaze takes in his face, slowly —lazily even, as if he had all the time in the world and nothing better to do. 

So Taeyong does the same.

It's the first time in years that he actually takes the time to study Ten's face carefully, he realizes, as his eyes trail down the curve of his cheeks and absorb any little detail that he could've missed in the last few months. 

The first time they saw each other, the night of the party, Taeyong was incredibly drunk and could barely focus on a fixed point for more than a few seconds. He remembers quite well how Ten was dressed and how much it shook him to the core the younger's demeanour and the way he carried himself around, and he also remembers an irreverent urge to erase the fake smile the younger gave him, but nothing more. The second time, the day they met at the cafe..., there were too many bottled up feelings. Ten had avoided his gaze most of the time, and the times they did look at each other was just to try and convey things that couldn't be said out loud. And then, through the past two months, while it's true that they had been able to maintain cordial conversations, Taeyong never took the time to peer beyond the mask Ten wears to work. 

But now, with Kun and Doyoung's bickering melting into the background noise, Taeyong really looks at Ten.

The man that used to be his best friend has changed a lot, and at the same time, it's like he didn't age a day since they were eighteen. His haircut is pretty much the same as always, and his soft features didn't suffer any drastic changes; his pointy nose is still the same, his cheekbones are just a bit more defined, but not too much; and apart from the slight bags under his eyes, Taeyong could easily fool himself and pretend like they're just that, teenagers. 

However, all possible pretence vanishes once Taeyong feels the pull of the younger's gaze, strong, demanding and impossible to avoid as if it were a magnet, leaving Taeyong with no other choice except looking up. 

Ten's eyes are surprisingly sincere, totally open for Taeyong to read and dig into the myriad of feelings that flash on them, one after another, not letting him blink in case he misses something. He sees tiredness, guilt, wariness, relief, doubt. It's a lot, and he slowly starts to panic as a tiny voice in the back of his head wonders if this is what they've reduced to, and tells him that it's not gonna last and that any moment now, the bubble will burst right before his eyes.

And then he sees a spark of joy.

Ten's voice cuts through the thick air, reaching for him, light and soft like a feather.

"Hi, Taeyong."

It's gentle and kind, but Taeyong finds it brutal in its tenderness. It ties a knot in his throat.

But Taeyong smiles.

"Hi, Ten."

The younger smiles at him, eyes wrinkling at the corners and shining as they turn into the brightest little crescent moons Taeyong has ever seen. He knows this is beyond a mere greeting —it's about something else. They have been slowly building something new over the ruins of that stupid agreement they made two months ago, out of little small talks and tiny gestures, and even though Taeyong should know and do better than this, he can't help the warm feeling that spreads across his chest when he finally understands that maybe, just maybe, they can work this out. 

Before Taeyong can get sappy and open his mouth to say something even sappier, two waitresses walk to their table carrying their dinner in wooden trays. Doyoung lets out a long, satisfied sigh as the young women carefully place the bowls and plates in front of them, and Kun gets up to help them with the drinks. 

Ten scrunches his nose when the producer hands him a glass of cold water.

"Water? Seriously?"

Kun stares at him intently.

"What do you want, then?"

"Beer, like the rest of y'all!"

"No."

"Kun. It's been almost a year since I had an alcoholic drink."

"So?"

Taeyong raises his eyebrows and turns to Doyoung in hopes his friend would explain to him what's going on, but the younger scoffs and sticks out his tone at Ten like a child.

"But..."

"Still no," says Kun, and then glances at Doyoung. His face is serious when he speaks again, but his voice betrays him and lets his amusement be heard. "And you, stop acting like a five-year-old."

"Sure thing, dad."

Ten rolls his eyes.

"Can we please go back to the main topic?"

"Which is?"

"Me!" 

Kun and Doyoung stare at him for a solid five seconds before turning around, facing each other again.

"So I've heard you're gonna be working with a debut group?" asks Doyoung, grabbing a spoon and digging into his bowl.

"Yeah, actually I..."

Ten sighs defeated, finally dropping the subject as the duo enrols in a whole different conversation. Taeyong studies him a bit, not quite sure if he has the right to ask what he wants to ask, but in the end, his curiosity wins him over.

"Why don't you ask for a beer yourself?" he asks cautiously.

"Even if I do, those two," he points at them with a chopstick, eyes narrowed, "won't let me take a sip."

Taeyong hums. He wants to keep asking away, but again, the question he has in mind is downright personal. However Ten doesn't seem too affected by the ban imposed by his friends, just a bit annoyed, so Taeyong infers that it can't be too serious.

"Did you...?" he clears his throat, a little bit awkward. "Did you have any drinking problems?"

He immediately regrets opening his mouth. Okay. This is it. He has screwed this up already. It was good while it lasted though! No hard feelings!

Ten opens his mouth and closes it a couple of times like a fish outside the water, eyes wide and hands completely still. Taeyong flushes red when the younger doesn't say a word.

"I'm... I'm sorry, I-I didn't... I meant that... You know what, it's none of my business anyway, I just..."

Ten's laugh cuts him short, loud, bright and high-pitched, face scrunched in amusement and eyes almost closed as he bends over the table and slams a hand on his thigh like Taeyong said the funniest thing on Earth. Taeyong blinks a few times, unsure of how to react. Ten's laugh is contagious for him, it's always been, but he feels so mortified that he just drops his gaze to his lap, fidgeting with his hands and wondering how bad of an idea it is to run away and start a new life in a foreign country. Could be somewhere in Europe. He'd always liked Europe.

"I'm sorry, it's just that—" Ten tries to speak, giggling every two words, "I was... taken aback and..."

"What are you laughing about, you two?" asks Doyoung, quirking an eyebrow at them. Kun takes a bite of bread and turns to Taeyong, interested, but the older is too focused on the fascinating way his jeans have worn out around the knee area to notice.

"I just... I..." Ten tris again, but at the end chooses to give up and presses a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter, eyes beginning to look glossier with tears.

"I think we've lost him," comments Doyoung.

"What did you say, anyway?" asks Kun, beaming at the way Ten seems incapable of stop laughing and genuinely curious. "I haven't seen him laugh like this in a while."

Taeyong perks up at that, momentarily forgetting his torment. 

"I just... I was telling him that..."

"He asked me if cereal with milk is soup," Ten replies, making an effort to talk without giggling. Doyoung blinks.

"And what's so funny about that?"

Ten smiles widely.

"My humour is broken."

"I can tell that much."

"He's got a point, though," Kun says, humming. "What are the basic requirements to make soup?"

"That wasn't the point!" protests Doyoung.

"No, but think about it. What makes soup soup?"

"What makes...? You know what, I'm not about to have this conversation."

"Soup soup," Ten repeats in a whisper, exchanging a knowing smile with Taeyong. The younger's eyes shine with complicity.

Taeyong snorts.

"You just don't want to admit that Taeyong has a point.

"Taeyong always has a point," retorts Doyoung.

"And you're mad that you don't?"

"He's always mad about something," chirps in Ten, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"I'm done talking."

"Finally," mutters Taeyong, winning a sonorous slap in the arm. The three of them laugh at Doyoung's annoyed expression, and Taeyong obliges, "Fine, fine, no more teasing, no more teasing."

"You're all a pain in the ass."

Kun coos and pushes one of his side dishes towards Doyoung as a peace offer. 

"Okay, moving on," he says, satisfied when the Korean man accepts the food, "let's change the topic." The producer then closes his right hand on a fist and leans forward, placing it in front of Doyoung's lips, mimicking a microphone and adopting a serious tone when he speaks again. "What are your thoughts about cereal and milk? Soup or not soup?"

Ten and Taeyong chuckle when Doyoung lets out a whine. They lock eyes again once the producer and the CFO start bickering again, and Taeyong shakes his head as he digs into his food.

"Why did you tell them that?"

Ten shrugs, "One, because they'd be teasing you instead of Doyoung if I'd told them the truth. And two," he says, glaring at his glass of water as if it had offended him on a personal level, "because even though I've never had a drinking problem, they would have taken the opportunity to lecture me and throw a tantrum about how reckless I am." Ten shakes his head in disbelief, finally taking a sip, and Taeyong tries to put the pieces together in his head.

"So if you've never had a drinking problem, why forbid you from it?"

"I have a little medical condition," Ten says, and the older notices that he's putting aside the little mushrooms that float in the broth. _Guess his tastebuds didn't change that much_ , Taeyong thinks. "Nothing serious. I'm usually under a lot of stress and my blood pressure tends to get excited from time to time."

Taeyong scoffs.

"That's how you define hypertension?"

"It's more poetic that way."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Ten chuckles. Taeyong comes back to reality for a moment —only to realize that he's actually talking to the Thai without awkward silences or burdensome feelings hanging over their heads. His body is relaxed and so is his mind, and he relishes in that feeling. 

It's nice.

"The problem is not my funny blood pressure, though." Ten pokes a small piece of tofu with his chopstick. "But the meds... beta-blockers are a bitch."

"Do you have to follow a diet or something?"

"Nah, not really. As long as I avoid alcohol, coffee and fast food I'm good."

Coffee?

He. He'd bought Ten coffee. That same morning. Coffee. COFFEE. 

Taeyong whines, burying his face in his hands. 

"Taeyong?" Ten is taken aback when the older starts muttering something about what a terrible person he is. "Taeyong, what happened?"

"I bought you coffee this morning," he says, voice muffled, and Ten has to think hard for a solid ten seconds before understanding what's Taeyong's point and why he's acting like that. "You should've said anything, I would've bought something else..."

Ten has to make a conscious effort not to laugh.

"Taeyong, it's okay," he assures, chuckling, "I can drink some coffee from time to time."

"Yeah, but you shouldn't. I could've killed you," he dramatizes as he looks up, only half-joking.

Taeyong knows he's being a little bit irrational, but the feeling that he keeps screwing things up is taking over his rational side and he can't help but think that maybe he should've...

"Taeyong."

"I'm sorry."

Ten reaches out for him, placing his hand gently over the older's forearm, "Yong. It's nothing." Taeyong relaxes almost immediately. Not that it has something to do with the nickname, of course. Not at all. "It was perfect, by the way," Ten adds, winking.

Taeyong goes blank.

Luckily and just in time to save him from further embarrassment, Doyoung proposes to order a couple of bottles of soju and a few more cans of beer. Kun agrees and immediately sticks to Ten's side to cover his mouth with his hand as soon as he starts to protest, ignoring all complaints and shushing him like a child. Taeyong laughs at Ten's frown.

It doesn't take too much for the trio to loosen up, promptly asking for more beer and laughing hysterically at every word Ten says. Now, if two months ago someone told Taeyong that in a few weeks he would be drinking with one of the producers he admired the most, his best friend and his former best friend, he would probably have laughed. But the truth is... he's having a good time. It doesn't feel forced in any way, there's not a single awkward moment and he finds himself feeling a lot happier than he has in a long time.

Taeyong's not one to fool himself, though, and he knows that most of his sudden happiness doesn't have anything to do with the fact that he's drunk along with two good friends but with the man sitting in front of him. Under the warm lights and the perspective that the beer and soju combined had conferred him, Ten is glowing.   
As the minutes tick by and empty bottles keep piling up over their table, Taeyong turns away from Kun and Doyoung and faces Ten with a serious expression. 

Ten quirks an eyebrow.

"So," he says, voice low and fingers intertwined over the table as if he's in the middle of a business meeting, "I've heard that you became a CEO at eighteen."

Ten snorts.

"Who told you that?"

"I'm not revealing my sources," deadpans Taeyong.

"Then I'm not confirming or denying anything either."

The older sighs, leaning forward so he's closer to the Thai man. He doesn't do it just for the sake of it, but more because he's slightly dizzy and his eyes can't focus properly on the younger's face if he's far away from him.

"Did you know," Taeyong whispers, slurring his words a little, "did you know that you snore?"

Ten has to suppress a smile. Taeyong's mind has always been a strange and wonderful place. He would often come up with random topics and Ten would rarely know where they'd come from. 

So he gasps, playing along and making an offended face.

"I don't snore!"

Taeyong nods solemnly, "Yes, you do."

"Are you trying to blackmail me?"

"Maybe." Ten narrows his eyes and Taeyong caresses his chin as if he had a beard, studying the younger with hazy eyes. "Why? Is it working?"

Ten grins.

"Maybe."

Taeyong smiles widely and tries to come up with something else to say, but he's easily distracted when he sees Ten picking up his glass and taking a sip of water. Why is he drinking water? He thinks about it long and hard, and the younger must feel his gaze burning holes in his skull because he looks up at him and tilts his head.

"You good?"

Right. The meds.

"Take your meds when you get home," he replies, pointing a finger at him and causing Ten to roll his eyes.

"Not you too. I have enough with those two being up my ass."

Taeyong's eyes grow wide.

"They're up your ass?"

Something in his voice must betray him, because Ten leans in and presses a finger on his forehead, tapping lightly a few times before pulling back.

"Since when are you that dirty-minded, huh?" he asks, amused as the older laughs. "But fine, I will. Take my meds, I mean. And talking about getting home..." Ten turns to Kun and Doyoung, who are in the middle of what seems to be a drinking game. Classical. "Time to pack it up, gentlemen."

"Noooooo," whines Kun, reaching for Doyoung's arm. Ten raises an eyebrow. "Just a little little little longer and then... and thennn..."

"And then?"

"He forgot," deadpans Doyoung, and he's right. Kun's face falls as he concentrates hard. "We should go home, I think— I think I'm gonna throw up."

"Lovely," states Ten, standing up and stretching before rolling down his sleeves and throwing his suit jacket over his shoulders. "I'm calling a cab for you two," he says, pointing at Doyoung and Taeyong, "hold on a little longer."

Doyoung frowns.

"What about Kun?"

"He's living with me, remember?"

"Right. Makes sense."

Kun scoffs. 

"Living with you is an overstatement."

"Does that word even exist?" asks Taeyong, yawning.

Damned beta-blockers. He should be wasted too, but instead, he's been reduced to this. A babysitter.

"You're all children. I'm calling a cab."

"Noooo, wait." Taeyong tries to snatch his phone and pouts when he fails. "I brought my car with me and I... I need it tomorrow morning. Like early. Really, reaaaally early."

Ten sighs.

"You can't drive like this, Taeyong. Let me call you a cab. You can call you manager to pick you up for your schedule tomorrow morning."

"He can't, he's out of town. He told me that he'd meet me by lunchtime."

"Yo, get a new manager."

"Doyoung!" Kun protests, slapping his arm.

"What? He's not doing," he pauses, hiccuping a few times, "he's not doing his job!"

Ten brushes his hair off his face, thinking. Kun and Taeyong can't even stand on their own. Taeyong needs to leave in his car. Doyoung seems sober enough to walk in a straight line, but he doesn't want to take any chances. 

Finally, he opens Sicheng's chat and types a quick message. His friend answers in less than a minute and Ten sends him a cute sticker with a lot of hearts that he knows that will piss him off. He calls a single cab next and helps his friends to put their jackets on.

As he said: babysitting.

The cab arrives within the span of a few minutes and Ten guides Kun and Doyoung outside the restaurant, opening the back door of the car and leading them inside. Once he makes sure they're good, he gives a few instructions to the driver and pays in advance, lending him a generous tip for all the trouble that he knows his friends will cause. They're laughing nonstop when the engine starts to purr, waving their goodbyes as if they were soldiers in a ship sailing to war instead of two drunks in some stranger's car.

Going back inside, Ten finds Taeyong obediently waiting in his chair, just as he instructed him to do before having to take care of Kun and Doyoung. The older is resting his elbows on the table and his face on his hands, and Ten can tell that he's making a great effort to not fall asleep. 

He shakes him gently by the shoulder.

"Taeyong? We can go now."

Taeyong blinks a few times and tries to focus on Ten's face, but the world is spinning and so is him. He vaguely registers what he says, though, so he gathers all the strength that he has left and stands up. 

Or at least he tries to, because if it weren't for Ten he would have hit the ground with his face. The younger chuckles lightly, like it's not a big deal, and throws one of Taeyong's arms over his shoulders. His left hand slides down his ribs and settles on his waist, pressing the taller body against his side to help him maintain balance, and they start walking towards the exit.

"You good there?" he asks once they're out, the chilly air of the night sending a shiver down his spine.

"Mhm... fine. This used to be the other way around."

Ten snorts.

"The only times we got drunk together was when we were in Thailand, and if I remember correctly you never had to carry me back home."

"Mmmm." Taeyong doesn't sound convinced, but then again, his main priority is to stay awake. Everything else doesn't matter. They stop at the corner of the block and as they wait for the traffic light to turn green, Taeyong closes his eyes. It turns out to be a pretty bad idea, because as soon as he sees all black his dizziness gets worse. He whines and leans his head against Ten's, trying to anchor himself to something tangible, relishing on the way the younger presses him against his side with a little more force to prevent him from falling. "It was nice."

"What was?"

"That week in Thailand." When Ten doesn't say anything, Taeyong blurts out, "I threw away the plane tickets, you know? But I... I couldn't throw away the polaroids."

Ten doesn't know what to say, so he remains silent. 

However, one block later, Taeyong's legs give in and Ten realises he can't make him walk three blocks more in his state, so he turns his back to him and crouches. 

"Come on."

"What?"

"Piggyback, Yong."

"Oh."

It's a lot more difficult than it looks, to accommodate a drunk adult on your back, but Ten manages. He jumps a little to adjust the older's weight and hooks his arms behind the back of his knees, snorting a little when he feels Taeyong's cheek nuzzling against his neck as he hooks his chin over his shoulder. 

The audacity of that man.

"Comfy?" he asks, picking up his pace to get to the parking lot as soon as possible. 

Taeyong hums, already dozing off now that he hasn't to stand on his own feet.

The next few minutes Ten walks in silence. The parking lot of his company is not far away —thank God— and he shakes Taeyong a little when they arrive, asking him to tell him where his car is. The older climbs off his back when they localize the vehicle, handing Ten the keys and going straight to the copilot seat. He manages to mumble his address before dozing off again.

The fifteen-minute ride is silent. Ten relishes in the quiet of the night, only interrupted by the soft purr of the car's engine and Taeyong's deep, slow-paced breaths. He decides to shut off his mind, too.

He'll have time to think after.

Taeyong wakes up when Ten parks in front of his building, as if the lack of movement had disturbed him. The younger turns off the engine and hops off the car, walking to the copilot's door to help Taeyong out. 

"Floor?"

"10th."

Luckily, they don't have any drawbacks. Taeyong manages to open the front door and walk to the elevator by himself, only relying on Ten again when he types in the code number to enter his apartment. Taeyong steps in first, having half a mind to take off his shoes and his jacket, and Ten follows after him.

As Taeyong stumbles into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water, Ten takes a moment to breathe. The place is dark and he can't discern more than a few figures, such as a large sofa, a cabinet and a TV, but what he does notice is the perfume. It smells like vanilla, like something baked, but also like fresh soil and sunshine. It smells like Taeyong.

Ten tries to ignore the pang of nostalgia and walks into the kitchen. Taeyong is leaning against the counter, head low between his shoulders and yawning like there's no tomorrow.

"Come on, let's get you comfortable."

Taeyong's legs don't seem to want to cooperate again, so Ten ends up carrying him up to his room. He has no idea where he keeps the pyjamas, though, but if he has to do a wild guess...

Yeap.

Ten smiles when he finds a set of comfortable clothes exactly in the drawer he thought they would be in. He hands them to Taeyong, who smiles at him despite having his eyes almost closed.

"Change. I'll bring you a glass of water."

It's easy to find things in Taeyong's apartment despite never having been there before. Does he really know him that much?, he wonders, filling up a glass. 

When he goes back to the bedroom Taeyong is already in his pyjamas and comfortably nestled between piles of pillows and a couple of fuzzy blankets. Ten places the glass carefully over the nightstand and is about to leave when he hears a cough.

"You leaving without saying goodbye?"

Oh, yes. Of course. Drunk Taeyong is cocky Taeyong.

"Thought you were already sleeping," Ten says, approaching the bed. He refuses to sit down, though, because... yeah. Just because. It would be kinda awkward. "And since when do I owe you any explanations?" 

Taeyong blinks.

"I didn't mean that."

"Mhm." Taeyong pouts at his condescending tone and Ten rolls his eyes. "Go to sleep, Taeyong. You'll feel better in the morning."

"Fineeeeee."

"You good? You need anything else?" Taeyong hums, eyes fluttering closed as sleep kicks in once again. "What?"

His voice is barely a whisper when he speaks again, but Ten hears him loud and clear, making him freeze in his place.

"Stay."

Ten blinks.

He doesn't need to come up with a coherent answer, however, because Taeyong falls asleep as soon as he utters the last word. Shaking his head, the Thai man leans in to brush some strands off Taeyong's forehead and rearranges the blankets a bit, moving them up to his chin. 

And then he leaves.

  
Back at the hotel, Ten finds a post-it note on his door. It's past midnight and all he really wants is to take a shower to wash the day off his body and crash into his bed, but he sighs and walks to the end of the hallway.

"Sicheng, it's me."

He hears a beep and then his friend opens the door, arching an eyebrow as he takes in the Thai's face.

"You didn't drink."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Then why do you look like crap?"

"Crap it's my middle name." Ten smirks when Sicheng rolls his eyes, moving out of the door frame to let him in. Doyoung and Kun are passed out over Sicheng's bed, snoring and with their mouths open. "If Doyoung complains a single time about a headache tomorrow I'm firing him," comments Ten, plopping down on the couch.

"I brought them here to keep an eye on them while you arrived," says Sicheng, pouring two glasses of fresh green tea. He hands one of them to Ten, who accepts it gladly. His mouth is incredibly dry. "How's Taeyong?"

"Not better than those two."

"Mmm."

Ten sighs tiredly, closing his eyes and letting his head rest against the back of the couch. 

"I have to wake up in like five hours and I still have to take a shower."

"Better be going then," retorts Sicheng, walking to the bed and pulling Doyoung up. "I'll help you take him to your room."

Ten quirks an eyebrow.

"Why? I thought we were sleeping together."

Sicheng scrunches his nose and Ten chuckles.

"First of all, gross. And you know we can't let them alone when they're this wasted."

"I know, I know," he says, standing up and setting his empty glass aside. "They could throw up in their sleep and choke on his own vomit and die, we know. What I don't understand is why you're handing me Doyoung."

Sicheng gestures to him to help him carry Doyoung to the other bedroom, and grunts when the Korean man doesn't even flinch.

"Seriously, he could be dead and I wouldn't notice the difference," he mutters. "I'm handing you Doyoung because both of you wake up early as hell and I don't want you to come screaming at my door tomorrow because he overslept."

"Fair enough. Kun's gonna be pissed at you though."

Sicheng snorts, dragging Doyoung across the hallway as Ten slides his keycard through the magnetic lock to open his door. 

"Right, because I'm taking away the big opportunity of his life. Like he could do something in his current state."

"Yeah, now that you mention it the snores are kinda like a big turn off," comments Ten, taking off Doyoung's blazer and pushing him onto his bed.

"Again, gross."

Ten grins, "I barely said anything."

"No need. You two disgust me." Ten coos at him, jumping to his back and hugging him from behind despite Sicheng's protests and futile attempts to free himself from the death grip of the older. "Let me go, you mad man!"

"Give me a goodnight kiss first!"

They fight for a little more, Sicheng clearly annoyed at Ten's antics and the latter laughing loudly. When they stop and the Chinese is about to leave, he stops dead in his tracks and turns around, facing Ten.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice soft this time.

Now that Ten's really ready to wrap up the day, he feels like everything is about to crash down on him. His chest feels heavy and his mind is buzzing with a million questions. But he knows Sicheng, and he knows that he's as caring and protective of him as they come, and he doesn't want to worry him. Not today, not tonight. 

Ten musters a smile and pats his shoulder.

"I'm just tired. Goodnight, Cheng."

The younger doesn't seem too convinced, but he lets it slip this time.

"Okay. Good night, Ten. Sleep well."

The door clicks closed and Ten lets out a long breath. 

It's been a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...that was such a long ride lol
> 
> hihi! how are y'all? I just finished writing this and its like 7 am and I haven't slept yet but I somehow managed to finish this so I'm just happy I could work this out. For those who don't know, I already had the whole chapter written but word is a b!tch and I lost everything so... yeah. I ended up adding a lot more things and I THINK I actually like this version better lol
> 
> But anyway, let me hear (or read) your thoughts! This chap was such a hard one to write and it stressed me out because they !!! finally !!! interact !!! like the two !!! adults !!! they are !!! So you know, let me know what you think so I can do better next chap :)
> 
> Have a great weekend!


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